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A List of all Owners of 3,000 acres and upwards, worth £3,000 a year. Fourth Edition, thoroughly revised, with the addition of 1,320 owners of 2,000 acres and upwards in England, Scotland, Ireland, and Wales ; their incomes from land, acreage, colleges, clubs and services. Culled from the "Modern Doomsday Book," corrected in the vast majority of cases by the owners themselves. By John Bateman, F.R.G.S., with AN analysis. Crown 8vo., cloth. Price 14s. "Mr. Bateraan has given in this volume information of a valuable kind in a handy, trustworthy form." — Land Agents' Becord. Beaoonsfield, An appreciative Life of THE LATE EARL OF. A Statesman of " Light and Leading," with Portraits of his Contemporaries. Edited by Coenelius Beown, F.R.S.L., &c. The work is copiously illustrated with Etchings, Engravings, and with 25 Permanent Fliotogra])lis of Eminent Conservatives, including the whole of the late Beaconsfield Ministry. To say nothing of the value and interest of these elegant volumes, in their costly illustrations, and the superior style in which they are presented for Publication, as containing An Appreciative Life of one of the most distinguished jnibhc men of whom om* country can boast in the j^resent eventful centiiry of its ai'nals, they will be found, it is believed, to have an attractiveness for llie British Public genei-ally, and for British Conservatives in jiarticular, Bucli as perhaps no similar Biography of modern times can be said to posiCis. 2 vols., 4to., cloth gilt. Price 423. Published by HARRISON h SONS, 59, Pall Mall, London, S.W., Houksellers to Her Majesty and His Eot/al Highness the Frince of Wales. P' NOTES ON NUPiSING: WHAT IT IS, AND WHAT IT IS NOT. BT rLOREXCE NIGHTINGALE. LONDON : HARRISON, 59, PALL MALL, BOOKSELLER TO THE QUEEJ^. [The ricjht of Translation is reserved.'] HAEBISON AND SCNS Pr.INTERS IN ORDINARY TO HER MAJESTY, ST. MARIIN's LANE. PREFACE. The following notes are by no means intended as a rnle of thought by which nurses can teach themselves to nurse, still less as a manual to teach nurses to nurse. They are meant simply to give hints for thought to women who have personal charge of the health of others. Every woman, or at least almost every woman, in England has, at one time or another of her life, charge of the personal health of somebody, whether child or invalid, — in other words, every woman is a nurse. Every day sanitary knowledge, or the knowledge of nursing, or in other words, of how to put the constitution in such a state as that it will have no disease, or that it can recover from disease, takes a higher place. It is recognized as the knowledge which every one ought to have — distinct from medical knowledge, which only a profession can have. If, then, every woman must, at some time or other of her life, become a nurse, i.e., have charge of somebody's health, liow immense and how valuable would be the produce of her united experience if every woman would think how to nurse. 1 do not pretend to teach her how, I ask her to teach her- self, and for this purpose I venture to give her some hints. TABLE OF CONTENTS Pages Ventilation and Warming .... ,„. .... 8 Health of Houses .... .... .... .... 14 Petty Management .... .... .... .... 20 Noise .... .... .... .... .... .., 25 Variety .... .... .... .... ..,. 33 Taking Food .... .... .... .... .... 36 What Food? .... .... .... .... ... 39 Bed and Bedding .... ... .... .... .... 45 Light .... .... .... .... .... 47 Cleanliness op Rooms and Walls .... ... .... 49 Personal Cleanliness .... .... .... ... 52 Chattering Hopes and Advices .... .... ... 54 Observation op the Sick .... .... .... 69 Conclusion .... .... .... ... .... 71 Appendix .... .... ,... .„ .... 77 NOTES ON NUESING: WHAT IT IS, AND WHAT IT IS NOT. Shall we begin by taking it as a general principle — that all Disease a disease, at some period or other of its course, is more or less a reparativs reparative process, not necessarily accompanied with suffering : an Process, effort of nature to remedy a process of poisoning or of decay, which has taken place weeks, months, sometimes years beforehand, unnoticed, the termination of the disease being then, while the antecedent process was going on, determined ? If we accept this as a general principle we shall be immediately met with anecdotes and instances to prove the contrary. Just so if we were to take, as a principle — all the climates of the earth are meant to be made habitable for man, by the efforts of man — the objection would be immediately raised, — Will the top of Mont Blanc ever be made habitable ? Our answer would be, it will be many thousands of years before we have reached the bottom of Mont Blanc in making the earth healthy. Wait till we have reached the bottom before we discuss the top. In watching disease, both in private houses and in public hos- of the sulTt pitals, the thing which strikes the experienced observer most forcibly ings of disoaic, is this, that the symptoms or the sufferings generally considered to disease not be inevitable and incident to the disease are very often not symptoms ^'^^'^y the of the disease at all, but of something quite different — of the want ^^"^^* of fresh air, or of light, or of warmth, or of quiet, or of cleanliness, or of punctuality and care in the administration of diet, of each or of all of these. And this quite as much in private as in hospital nursing. The reparative process which Nature has instituted and which we call disease has been hindered by some want of knowledge or atten- tion, in one or in all of these things, and pain, suffering, or interrup- tion of the whole process sets in. icr- 6 NOTES ON NUESIINI*. If a patient is cold, if a patient is feverish, if a patient is faint, if he is sick after taking food, if he has a bed-sore, it is generally the fault not of the disease, but of the nursing. What nursing I use the word nursing for want of a better. It has been limited to ought to do. signify little more than the administration of medicines and the application of poultices. It ought to signify the proper use of fresh air, light, warmth, cleanliness, quiet, and the proper selection and administration of diet — all at the least expense of vital power to the patient. Nursing the It has been said and written scores of times, that every woman sice little makes a good nurse. I believe, on the contrary, that the very uudersitood. elements of nursing are all but unknown. By this I do not mean that the nurse is always to blame. Bad sanitary, bad architectural, and bad administrative arrangements often make it impossible to nurse. But the art of nursing ought to include such arrangements as alone make what i understand by nursing, possible. The art of nursing, as now practised, seems to be expressly constituted to unmake what God had made disease to be, viz., a reparative process. Nursing ousht To recur to the first objection. If we are asked, Is such or to assist the such a disease a reparative process ? Can such an illness be unac- reparaiive companied with suftering ? Will any care prevent such a patient process. ^^^^ suffering this or that ? — I humbly say, I do not know. But when you have done away with all that pain and suffering, which in patients are the symptoms not of their disease, but of the absence of one or all of the above-mentioned essentials to the success of Nature's reparative processes, we shall then know what are the symptoms of and the sufferings inseparable from the disease. Another and the commonest exclamation which will be instantly made is — Would you do nothing, then, in cholera, fever, &c. ? — so deep-rooted and universal is the conviction that to give medicine is to be doing something, or rather everything ; to give air, warmth, cleanliness, &c., is to do nothing. The reply is, that in these and many other similar diseases the exact value of particular remedies and modes of treatment is by no means ascertained, while there is universal experience as to the extreme importance of careful nursing in determining the issue of the disease. Nursing the H, The very elements of what constitutes good nursing are as ^^■c^^ little understood for the well as for the sick. The same laws of health or of nursing, for they are in reality the same, obtain among the well as among the sick. The breaking of them produces only a less violent consequence among the former than among the latter, — and this sometimes, not always. It is constantly objected, — " But how can I obtain this medical knowledge ? I am not a doctor. I must leave this to doctors." Little under- Qh, mothers of families ! You who say this, do you know that Ktood. Q^g j^ every seven infants in this civilized land of England perislies before it is one year old? That, in London, two in every five die before they are five years old ? And, in the other great cities ol NOTES ON NURSI^^G. 7 Eagland, nearly one out of two?* "The life duration of tender babies" (as some Saturn, turned analytical chemist, says) "is the most delicate test" of sanitary conditions. Is all this premature suffering and death necessary ? Or did Nature intend mothers to be always accompanied by doctors ? Or is it better to learn the piano-forte than to learn the laws which subserve the preservation of offspring ? Macaulay somewhere says, that it is extraordinary that, whereas the laws of the motions of the heavenly bodies, far removed as they are from us, are perfectly well understood, the laws of the human mind, which are under our observation all day and every day, are no better understood than they were two thousand years ago. But how much more extraordinary is it that, whereas what we might call the coxcombries of education — e.g., the elements of astro- nomy— are now taught to every school-girl, neither motliers of families of any class, nor school-mistresses of any class, nor nurses of children, nor nurses of hospitals, are taught anything about those laws which Grod has assigned to the relations of our bodies with the world in which He has put them. In other words, the laws which make these bodies, into which He has put our minds, healthy or un- healthy organs of those minds, are all but unlearnt. Not but that these laws — the laws of life — are in a certain measure understood, but not even mothers think it worth their while to study them — to study how to give their children healthy existences. They call it medical or physiological knowledge, fit only for doctors. Another objection. We are constantly told, — " But the circumstances which govern our children's healths are beyond our control. "What can we do with winds ? There is the east wind. Most people can tell before they get up in the morning whether the wind is in the east." * Upon this fact the most wonderful deductions have been strung. For a Curious deduo- long time an announcement something like -the following has been going the tions from an round of the papers:— " More than 25,000 children die every year in London excessive under 10 years of age; therefore we want a Children's Hospital." This spring death rate, there was a prospectus issued, and divers other means taken to this effect: — " There is a great want of sanitary knowledge in women ; therefore we want a Women's Hospital." Now, both the above facts are too saclly true. But what is the deduction 1 The causes of the enormous child mortality are petfectly well known ; they are chiefly want of cleanliness, want of ventilation, want of white- washing; in one word, defective household hygiene. The remedies are just as well known ; and among them is certainly not the establishment of a Child's Hospital. This may be a want ; just as there may be a want of hospital room for adults. But the Registrar-General would certainly never think of giving us as a cause for the high rate of child mortality in (say) Liverpool that there was not sufficient hospital room for children; nor would he urge upon us, as a remedy, to found a hospital for them. Again, women, an 1 the best women, are wofully deficient in sanitary know- ledge; although it is to women that we must look, first and last, for its appli- cation, as far as household hygiene is concerned. But who would ever think of citing the institution of a Women's Hospital as the way to cure this want 1 We have it, indeed, upon very high authority that there is some fear le<^.t hospitals, as they have been hiih^Ho, may not have generally increased, ruther than diminished, the rate of mortality— especially of child mortality. 8 NOTES ON NURSING. To this one can answer witli more certainty than to the former objections. Who is it who knows when the wind is in the east ? Not the Highland drover, certainly, exposed to the east wind, but the young lady who is worn out with the want of exposure to fresh air, to sunlight, &c. Put the latter under as good sanitary circum- stances as the former, and she too will not know when the wind is in the east. I. VENTILATION AND WAEMINO. First rule of The very first canon of nursing, the first and the last thing upon nursing, to which a nurse's attention must be fixed, the first essential to the within as^pure P^^^^^^' without which all the rest you can do for him is as nothing, as the air ^^^^ which I had almost said you may leave all the rest alone, is this: without. To KEEP THE AIE HE BREATHES AS PURE AS THE EXTERNAL AIR, WITHOUT CHILLING HIM. Yet what is SO little attended to ? Even where it is thought of at all, the most extraordinary misconceptions reign about it. Even in admitting air into the patient's room or ward, few people ever think, where that air comes from. It may come from a corridor into which other wards are ventilated, from a hall, always unaired, always fall of the fumes of gas, dinner, of various kinds of mustiness ; from an underground kitchen, sink, washhouse, water-closet, or even, as I myself have had sorrowful experience, from open sewers loaded with filth ; and with this the patient's room or ward is aired, as it is called — poisoned, it should rather be said. Always air from the air without, and that, too, through those windows, through which the air comes freshest. Erom a closed court, especially if the wind do not blow that way, air may come as stagnant as any from a hall or corridor. Again, a thing I have often seen both in private houses and insti- tutions. A room remains uninhabited ; the fire place is carefully fastened up with a board ; the windows are never opened ; probably the shutters are kept always shut ; perhaps some kind of stores are kept in the room ; no breath of fresh air can by possibility enter into that room, nor any ray of sun. The air is as stagnant, musty, and corrupt as it can by possibility be made. It is quite ripe to breed small-pox, scarlet fever, diphtheria, or anything else you please.* Yet the nursery, ward, or sick room adjoining will positively be aired (?) by having the door opened into that room. Or children will be put into that room, without previous preparation, to sleep. A short time ago a man walked into a back-kitchen in Queen Why are unin- * ^^^ common idea as to uninhabited rooms is, that they may safely be left habited rooms ^^^^ doors, windows, shutters, and chimney board, all closed— hermetically sealed shut up 1 ^^ possible — to keep out the dust, it is said ; and that no harm will happen if the room is but opened a short hour before the inmates are put in. I have often been asked the question for uninhabited rooms — But when ought the windows to be opened ] The answer is — When ought they to be shut] YEKTILATION AlTD WAEMING. 9 square, and cut the throat of a poor consumptive creature, sitting by the fire. The murderer did not deny the act, but simply said, "It's all right." Of course he was mad. But in our case, the extraordinary thing is that the victim says, " It's all right," and that we are not mad. Yet, although we " nose" the murderers, in the musty unaired unsunned room, the scarlet fever which is behind the door, or the fever and hospital gangrene which are stalking among the crowded beds of a hospital ward, we say, "It's all right." With a proper supply of windows, and a proper supply of fuel Without chill. in open fire places, fresh air is comparatively easy to secure when your patient or patients are in bed. Never be afraid of open windows then. People don't catch cold in bed. This is a popular fallacy. With proper bed-clothes and hot bottles, if necessary, you can always keep a patient warm in bed, and well ventilate him at the same time. But a careless nurse, be her rank and education what it may, will stop up every cranny and keep a hot-house heat when her patient is in bed, — and, if he is able to get up, leave him compara- tively unprotected. The time when people take cold (and there are many ways of taking cold, besides a cold in the nose,) is when they firstget up after the two-fold exhaustion of dressing and of having had the skin relaxed by many hours, perhaps days, in bed, and there- by rendered more incapable of re-action. Then the same tempera- ture which refreshes tlie patient in bed may destroy the patient just risen. And common sense will point out that, while purity of air is essential, a temperature must be secured which shall not chill the patient. Otherwise the best that can be expected will be a feverish re-action. To have the air within as pure as the air without, it is not necessary, as often appears to be thought, to make it as cold. In the afternoon again, without care, the patient whose vital powers have then risen often finds the room as close and oppressive as he found it cold in the morning. Yet the nurse will be terrified, if a window is opened*. I know an intelligent humane house surgeon who makes a Open wiudo^-a. practice of keeping the ward windows open. The physicians and surgeons invariably close them while going their rounds ; and the house surgeon very properly as invariably opens them whenever the doctors have turned their backs. In a little book on nursing, published a short time ago, we are told, that "with proper care it is very seldom that the windows cannot be opened for a few minutes twice in the day to admit fresh * It is very desirable that the windows in a sick room should be such as that the patient shall, if he can move about, be able to open and shut them easily himself. In fact the sick room is very seldom kept aired if this is not the case — so very few people have any perception of what is a healthy atmosphere for the sick. The sick man often says, "This room where I spend 22 hours out of the 24 is fresher than the other where I only spend 2. Because here I can manage the windows myself." And it is true. 10 NOTES ON NUESIXa. air from without." I should think not; nor twice in the hour either. It only shows how little the subject has been considered. What kind of Of all methods of keeping patients warm the very worst certainly warmth jg to depend for heat on the breath and bodies of the sick. I have desirab e. known a medical officer keep his ward windows hermetically closed, thus exposing the sick to all the dangers of an infected atmosphere, because he was afraid that, by admitting frei=h air, the temperature of the ward would be too much loweied. This is a destructive fallacy. To attempt to keep a ward warm at the expense of making the sick repeatedly breathe their own hot, humid, putrescing atmosphere is a certain way to delay recovery or to destroy life. Bedrooms Do you ever go into the bed-rooms of any persons of any class, almost univer- whether they contain one, two, or twenty people, whether they sally foul. i^qI^ gi(.], Qj. ^,g||^ jjt night, or before the windows are opened in the morning, and ever find the air anything but unwholesomely close and foul ? And why should it be so ? And of how much importance it is that it should not be so ? During sleep, the human body, even when in health, is far more injured by the influence of foul air than when awake. Why can't you keep the air all night, then, as pure as the air without in the rooms you sleep in ? But for this, you. must have sufficient outlet for the impure air you make yourselves to go out ; sufficient inlet for the pure air from without to come in. Tou must have open chimneys, open windows, or ventilators ; no close curtains round your beds ; no shutters or curtains to your windows, none of the contrivances by which you undermine your own health or destroy the chances of recovery of your sick.* An air-test of * ^^- Angus Smith's air test, if it could be made of simpler ap]>lication, would essential he invaluable to use in every sleeping and sick room. Just as without the use of consequence. ^ thermometer no nurse should ever put a patient into a bath, so should no nurse, or mother, or superintendent be without the air test in any war.l, nursery, or sleeping-room. If the main function of a nurse is to maintain the air within the room as fresh as the air without, without lowering the temperature, then she should always be provided with a thermometer which indicates the temperature, with an air test which indicates the organic matter of the air. But to be used, the latter must be made as simple a little instrument as the former, and both should be self-registering. Thater closet the plug need be pulled up but once a day. Also take care that your lid, as well as your utensil, be always thoroughly rin-ed. If a nurse declines to do these kinds of things for her patient, " because it is not her business," I should say that nursing was not her calling. I have seen surgical " sisters," women whose hands were worth to them two or three guineas a-week, down upon their knees scouring a room or hut, because they thought it otherwise not fit for their patients to go into. I am far from M-ishing nurses to scour. It is a waste of power. But I do say that these v>omen had the true nurse calling— the good of their sick first, and second only the consideration what iiwns iheir "place" to do— and that women who wait tor the housemaid to do this, or for the charwoman to do that, when their patients arc suLering, have not the making of a nurse in them. 14 NOTES ON NURSING. lid, and examining the under side of that lid. It will be found always covered, whenever the utensil is not empty, by condensed offensive moisture. Where does that go, when there is no lid ? Earthenware, or if there is any wood, highly polished and varnished wood, are the only materials fit for patients' utensils. The very lid of the old abominable close-stool is enough to breed a pesti- lence. It becomes saturated with offensive matter, which scouring is only wanted to bring out- I prefer an earthenware lid as being always cleaner. But there are various good new-fashioned arrangements. Aboli.'h slop- A slop-pail should never be brought into a sick room. It Piiila- should be a rule invariable, rather more important in the private house than elsewhere, that the utensil should be carried directly to the water-closet, emptied there, rinsed there, and brought back. There should always be water and a cock in every water-closet for rinsing. But even if there is not, you must carry water there to rinse with. I have actually seen, in the private sick room, the utensils emptied into the foot-pan, and put back unrinsed under the bed. I can hardly say which is most abominable, whether to do this or to rinse the utensil in the sick room. In the best hospitals it is now a rule that no slop-pail shall ever be brought into the wards, but that the utensils shall be carried direct to be emptied and rinsed at the proper place. I would it were so in the private house. Fumigations Let no one ever depend upon fumigations, " disinfectants," and the like, for purifying the air. The offensive thing, not its smell, must be removed. A celebrated medical lecturer began one day " Fumigations, gentlemen, are of essential importance. They make such an abominable smell that they compel you to open the window." I wish all the disinfecting fluids invented made such an "abominable smell" that they forced you to admit fresh air. That would be a useful invention. Health of houses. Five [loints essen- tial. Health of tvirrianes. There are liouses : — II.— HEALTH OF HOUSES. ^ five essential points in securmg the health of 1. Pure air. 2. Pure water. 3. Efficient drainage. 4. Cleanliness. 5. Light. * The health of carriages, especially close carriages, is not of sufficient uni- versal importance to mention here, otherwise than cursorily. Children, who are always the most delicate test of sanitary conditions, generally cannot enter a close carriage without being sick— and very lucky for them that it is so. A close car- riage, with the horsehair cushions and linings always saturated with organic matter, if to this be added the windows up, is one of the most unhealthy of human receptacles. The idea of taking an airing in it is something preposterous. Dr. Angus Smith has shown that a crowded railway carriage, wliich goes at the rate of 30 miles an hour, is as unwholesome as the strong smell of a sewer, or as a Lack yard in one of the most unhealthy couits oti" one of the most unhealthy streets in Manchester. HEALTH or HOUSES. 15 Without these, no house can be healthy. And it will be unhealthy just in proportion as they are deficient. 1. To have pure air, your house must be so constructed as that the Pure air. outer atmosphere shall tind its way with ease to every corner of it. House architects hardly ever consider this. The object in building a house is to obtain the largest interest for the money, not to save doctors' bills to the tenants. But, if tenants should ever become so wise as to refuse to occupy unhealthily constructed houses, and if Insurance Companies should ever come to understand their interest so thoroughly as to pay a Sanitary Surveyor to look after the houses where their clients live, speculative architects would speedily be brought to their senses. As it is, they build what pays best. And there are always people foolish enough to take the houses they build. And if in the course of time the families die off, as is so often the case, nobody ever thinks of blaming any but Providence* for the result. IJl-informed medical men aid in sustaining the delusion, by laying the blame on " current contagions." Badly constructed houses do for the healthy what badly constructed hospitals do for the sick. Once insure that the air in a house is stagnant, and sickness is certain to follow. 2. Pure water is more generally introduced into houses than it Pure water, used to be, thanks to the exertions of the sanitary reformers. Within the last few years, a large part of London was in the daily habit of using water polluted by the drainage of its sewers and water closets. This has happily been remedied. But, in many parts of the country, well water of a very impure kind is used for iomestic purposes. And when epidemic disease shows itself, persons using such water are almost sure to suffer. 3. It would be curious to ascertain by inspection, how many Drainage. houses in London are really well drained. Many people would say, surely all or most of them. But many people have no idea in what good drainage consists. They think that a sewer in the street, and a pipe leading to it from the house is good drainage. All the while the sewer may be nothing but a laboratory from which epidemic disease and ill health is being distilled into the house. No liouso with any untrapped drain pipe communicating immediately with a sewer, whether it be from water closet, sink, or gully-grate, can ever be healthy. An untrapped sink may at any time spread fever or pyaemia among the inmates of a palace. The ordinary oblong sink is an abomination. That great surface Sinks, of stone, which is always left wet, is always exhaling into the air. I have known whole houses and hospitals smell of the sink. 1 have met just as strong a stream of sewer air coming up the back stair- case of a grand London house from the sink, as 1 have ever met at • God lays down certain physical laws. Upon His carrying out such Iaw8 depends our responsibility (ihat much abused word), ior how could we have any responsibility for actions, the rcsjults of which we could not foresee— which would be the case if the carrying out of His laws were not certain. Yet we seem to be continually expecting that He will work a miracle- i. e. break His own laws expressly to i clieve us of responsibility. 16 NOTES ON NUESING. Scutari ; and I have seen the rooms in that house all ventilated by the open doors, and the passages all wwventilated by the closed windows, in order that as much of the sewer air as possible might be conducted into and retained in the bed-rooms. It is wonderful. Another great evil in house construction is carrying drains underneath the house. Such drains are never safe. All house drains should begin and end outside the walls, INIany people will readily admit, as a theory, the importance of these things. But how few are there who can intelligently trace disease in their households to such causes ! Is it not a fact, that when scarlet fever, measles, or small-pox appear among the children, the very first thought which occurs is, "where" the children can have "caught" the disease? And the parents immediately run over in their minds all the families with whom they may have been. They never think of looking at home for the source of the mischief If a neighbour's child is seized with small pox, the first question which occurs is whether it had been vaccinated. No one would undervalue vaccination ; but it becomes of doubtful benefit to society when it leads people to look abroad for the source of evils which exist at home. Cleaulinefos. 4. ^A'ithout cleanliness, within and without your house, ventila- tion is comparatively useless. In certain foul districts of London, poor people used to object to open their windows and doors because of the foul smells that came in. Eich people like to have their stables and dunghill near their houses. But does it ever occur to them that with many arrangements of this kind it would be safer to keep the windows shut than open ? You cannot have the air of the house pure with dung heaps under the windows. These are common all over London. And yet people are surprised that their children, brought up in large " well-aired" nurseries and bed-rooms suffer from children's epidemics. If they studied Nature's laws in the matter of children's health, they would not be so surprised. There are other ways of having filth inside a house besides having dirt in heaps. Old papered walls of years' standing, dirty carpets, unclean sed furniture, are just as ready sources of impurity to the air as if there were a dung-heap in the basement. People are so unac- customed from education and habits to consider how to make a home healthy, that they either never think of it at all, and take every disease as a matter of course, to be " resigned to" when it comes " as from the hand of Providence ;" or if they ever entertain the idea of preserving the health of their household as a duty, they are very apt to commit all kinds of " neghgences and ignorances" in performing it. Light. 5. A dark house is always an unhealthy house, always an ill- aired house, always a dirty house. Want of light stops growth, and pro- motes scrofula, rickets, &.C., among the children. People lose their health in a dark house, and if they get ill they cannot get well again in it. More will be said about this farther on. Three common Three out of many " negligences and ignorances" in managing the errors^in^ healtli of houses generally, I will here mention as specimens — 1. That health ot^ ^ ^^^ female head in charge of any building does not think it necessary to houses. HEALTH OF HOUSES. 17 visit every hole and corner of it every day. How can she expect those who are under her to be more careful to maintain her house in a healthy condition than she who is in charge of it ? — 2. That it is not considered essential to air, to sun, and to clean rooms while unin- habited ; which is simply ignoring the first elementary notion of sanitary things, and laying the ground ready for all kinds of diseases. — 3. That the window, and one window, is considered enough to air a room. Have you never observed that any room without a fire-place is always close? And, if you have a fire-place, would you cram it up not only with a chimney-board, but perhaps with a great wisp of brown paper, in the throat of the chimney — to prevent the soot from coming down, you say ? If your chimney is foul, sweep it ; but don't expect that you can ever air a room with only one aperture ; don't suppose that to shut up a room is the way to keep it clean. It is the best way to foul the room and all that is in it. Don't imagine that if you, who are in charge, don't look to all these things yourself, those under you will be more careful than you are. It appears as if the part of a mistress now is to complain of her servants, and to accept their excuses — not to show them how there need be neither complaints made nor excuses. But again, to look to all these things yourself does not mean to Headin-harge do them yourself "I always open the windows," the head in jj"^*'. ^®^*^ charge often says. If you do ifc, it is by so much the better, cer- piene, not do tainly, than if it were not done at all. But can you not insure that it herself, it is done when not done by yourself ? Can you insure that it io not undone when your back is turned ? This is what being " in charge " means. And a very important meaning it is, too. The former only implies that just what you can do with your own hands is done. The latter that what ought to be done is always done. And now, you think these things trifles, or at least exaggerated. I^oob God But what you " think " or what I " think " matters little. Let us ^^\^^- ^^ ^^^<^^^ see what God thinks of them. God always justifies His ways. t^'p.^^J^''^ While we are thinking, He has been teaching. I have known cases of hospital pyaemia quite as severe in handsome private houses as in any of the worst hospitals, and from the same cause, viz., foul air. Yet nobody learnt the lesson. Nobody learnt anijtldng at all from it. They went on thinhing — thinking that the sufferer had scratched his thumb, or that it was singular that "all the servants" had "whitlows," or that something was "much about this year; there is always sickness in our house." This is a favourite mode of thought — leading not to inquire what is the uniform cause of these general " whitlows," but to stifle all inquiry. In wiiat sense is " sickness" being " always there," a justification of its being " there" at all ? 1 will tell you what was the cause of this hospital pyaemia being How does Tie in that large private house. It was that the sewer air from an ill- carry oui His placed sink was carefully conducted into all the rooms by sedulously 1-^'^^ opening all the doors, and closing all the passage windows. It was tkat the slops were emptied into the foot pans ; — it was that the utensils were never properly rinsed ; — it was that the chamber 0 18 NOTES ON NURSING. crockery was rinsed with dirty water; — it was that the beds were never properly shaken, aired, picked to pieces, or changed. It was that the carpets and curtains were always musty ; — it was that the furniture was always dusty ; it was that the papered walls were satu- rated with dirt ; — it was that the floors were never cleaned ; — it was that the uninhabited rooms were never sunned, or cleaned, or aired ; — it was that the cupboards were always reservoirs of foul air; — it was that the windows were always tight shut up at night ; — it was that no window was ever systematically opened, even in the day, or that the right window was not opened. A person gasping for air might open a window for himself. But the servants were not taught to open the windo^^■s, to shut the doors ; or they opened the windows upon a dank well between high walls, not upon the airier court ; or they opened the room doors into the unaired halls and passages, by way of airing the rooms. Now all this is not fancy, but fact. JIowdoesHe In that handsome house I have known in one summer three teach His cases of hospital pyaemia, one of phlebitis, two of consumptive laws? cough : all the immediate products of foul air. AVhen, in temperate climates, a house is more unhealthy in summer than in winter, it is a certain sign of something wrong. Yet nobody learns the lesson. Yes, God always justifies His ways. He is teaching while you are not learning. This poor body loses his finger, that one loses his life. And all from the most easily preventible causes.* The houses of the grandmothers and great grandmothers of this generation, at least the country houses, with front door and back door always standing open, winter and summer, and a thorough draught always blowing through — with all the scrubbing, and clean- ing, and polishing, and scouring which used to go on, the grand- mothers, and still more the great grandmothers, always out of doors and never with a bonnet on except to go to church, these things entirely account for the fact so often seen of a great grandmother, who was a tower of physical vigour descending into a grandmother perhaps a little less vigorous but still sound as a bell and healthy to tho core, into a mother languid and confined to her carriage and house, and lastly into a daughter sickly and confined to her bed. Tor, remember, even with a general decrease of mortality you may often find a race thus degenerating and still oftener a family. You may see poor little feeble washed-out rags, children of a noble stock, suffering morally and physicall), throughout their useless, degenerate ^ervautb' * I must say a word about servants' bed-rooms. From the way they are built, ''ojixia. but oftener from the way they are kept, and from no intelligent inspection what- ever being- exerci^sed over them, they are almost invariably dens of foul air, and the "servants' health" suffeis in an "unaccountable" (1) way, even in the country. For I am by no means speaking only of London houses, where too often servants are put to live under the ground and over the roof. But in a country ''mansion," which was really a "mansion," (not after the fashion of advertisements), I have known three maids who slept in the same room ill of scarlet fever. " How^ catching it is," was of course the remark. One look at the room, one smell of the room, was quite enough. It was no longer " unaccountable." The room w-as not a small one ; it was up stars, and it had two large windows— but nearly every one of the neglects enumerated above was there. Physical dege^ Deration in families. Its causes. HEALTH OF HOUSES. 19 lives, and yet people who are going to marry and to bring more such into the world, will consult nothing but their own convenience as to where they are to live, or how they are to live. "With regard to the health of houses where there is a sick person, Don't make it often happens that the sick room is made a ventilating shaft for the your sick- rest of the house. Tor while the house is kept as close, unaired, ^^^^ ii^^o a and dirty as usual, the window of the sick room is kept a little open ^f^f/'^^'^^f always, and the door occasionally. Now, there are certain sacrifices ^yi^yie house which a house with one sick person in it does make to that sick person: it ties up its knocker; it lays straw before it in the street. Why can't it keep itself thoroughly clean and unusually well aired, in deference to the sick person ? We must not forget what, in ordinary language, is called Infection. " Infection ;" * — a thing of whi<}h people are generally so afraid that they frequently follow the very practice in regard to it which they ought to avoid. Nothing used to be considered so infectious or contagious as small pox; and people not very long ago used to cover up patients with heavy bed clothes, while they kept up large fires and shut the windows. Small pox, of course, under this regime, is very " infectious." People are somewhat wiser now in their manage- ment of this disease. They have ventured to cover the patients lightly and to keep the windows open; and we hear much less of the " infection " of small pox than we used to do. But do people in our days act with more wisdom on the subject of "infection" iu fevers — scarlet fever, measles, &c. — than their forefathers did with small pox ? Does not the popular idea of "infection " involve that people should take greater care of themselves than of the patient ? that, for instance, it is safer not to be too much with the patient, not to attend too much to his wants ? Perhaps the best illustration of the utter absurdity of this view of duty in attending on " infectious" diseases is aff'orded by what was very recently the practice, if it is * Is it not living in a continual mistake to look upon diseases, as we do now, Diseases are as separate entities, wliich must exist, like cats and dogs ] instead of looking upon not individuals them as conditions, like a dirty and a clean condition, and just as much under arranged in our own control ; or rather as the reactions of kindly nature, against the condi- classes, like ions in which we have placed ourselves. cats and doj,s, I was brought up, both by scientific men and ignorant women, distinctly to but conditions believe that small-pox, for instance, was a thing of which there was once a first grovvinit<^(l closet or cupboard, may often become a reservoir of foul air for the room jouhug whole house, because the person in charge never thinks of arranging ^^^^^ that these places shall be always aired, always cleaned; she merely opens the window herself " when she goes in." -n r • - - i An agitating letter or message may be delivered, or an important ^^^^JgJ|^.J,^.^^! letter or message not delivered ; a visitor whom it was of consequence ^^ igi-ters and to see, may be refused, or one whom it was of still more consequence messages. not to see may be admitted— because the person in charge has never asked herself this question, AVhat is done when I am not there ? t At all events, one may safely say, a nurse cannot be with the * That excellent paper, the Builder, mentions the lingering of the smell of Lingering paint for a month about a house as a proof of want of ventilation. Certainly— smell of paint and, where there are ample windows to open, and these are never opened to get a want ot curt, rid of the smell of paint, it is a proof of want of management in using the means of ventilation. Of course the smell will then remain for months. Why should it go '] + Why should you let your patient ever be surprised, except by thieves 1 I do why let your not know. In England, people do not come down the chimney, or through the patient ever window, unless they are thieves. They come in by the door, and somebody must {^^ surprised .■' open the door to them. The " somebody" charged with opening the door is one of two, three, or at most four persons. Why cannot these at most, four persons be pui in charge as to what is to be done when there is a ring at the door bell 1 The sentry at a post is changed much oftener than any servant at a private house or institution can possibly be. But what should we think of such an excuse as this : that the enemy had entered such a post because A and not B had been on guard] Yet I have constantly heard such an excuse made in the private house or institution and accepted: viz., that such a person had been "let in" or ■/,ot " let in," and such a parcel had been wrongly delivered or lost because A and not B had opened the door ! 22 NOTES ON NUESINU. Partial mea- sures such as " lieing always In the way" yourself, in- crease instead of saving thj patient's anxiety. Be- cause they must be only partial. A'liat is the cause of half the accidents which happen ? patient, open the door, eat her meals, take a message, all at one and the same time. Nevertheless the person in charge never seems to look the impossibility in the face. Add to this that the aitempting this impossibility does more to increase the poor Patient's hurry and nervousness than anything else. It is never thought that the patient remembers these things it* you do not. He has not only to think whether the visit or letter may arrive, but whether you will be in the way at the particular day and hour when it may arrive. So that your partial measures for "being in the way" yourself, only increase the necessity for his thougjit. "Whereas, if you could but arrange that the thing should always be done whether you are there or not, he need never think at all about it. For the above reasons, whatever a patient can do for himself, it is better, i.e. less anxiety, for him to do for himself, unless the person in charge has the spirit of management. It is evidently much less exertion for a patient to answer a letter for himself by return of post, than to have four conversations, wait five days, have six anxieties before it is off his mind, before the person who is to answer it has done so. Apprehension, uncertainty, waiting, expectation, fear of surprise, do a patient more harm than any exertion. Remember, he is flice to face with his enemy all the time, internally wrestling with him, having long imaginary conversations with him. Ton are thinking of something else. " Eid him of his adversary quickly," is a first rule with the sick.* For the same reasons, always tell a patient and tell him before- hand when you are going out and when you will be back, whether it is for a day, an hour, or ten minutes. You fancy perhaps that it is better for him if he does not find out your going at all, better for him if you do not make yourself " of too much importance " to him ; or else you cannot bear to give him the pain or the anxiety of the temporary separation. No such thing. You ought to go, we will suppose. Health or duty requires it. Then say so to the patient openly. If you go without his knowing it, and he finds it out, he never will feel secure again that the things which depend upon you will be done when you are away, and in nine cases out often he will be right. If you go out without telling him when you will be back, he can take no measures nor precautions as to the things which concern you both, or which you do for him. If you look into the reports of trials or accidents, and especially of suicides, or into the medical history of fatal cases, it is almost incredible how often the whole thing turns upon something w^hich * There are many physical operations where ccBteris paribus the danger is in a direct ratio to the time the operation lasts; and coeteri,^ paribus the operators success will be in direct ratio to his quickness. Now there are many mental ope- rations where exactly the same rule holds good with the sick ; cceteris jyai'ibus their capability of bearing such operations depends directly on the quickness, without hurry, with which they can be got through. PETTY MANAGEMENT. 23 has happened because "he," or still oftener "she," "was not there." But it is still more incredible how often, how almost always this is accepted as a sufficient reason, a justification ; why, the very fact of the thing having happened is the proof of its not being a justification. The person in charge was quite right not to be " there,''' he was called away for quite sufficient reason, or he was away for a daily recurring and unavoidable cause : yet no provision was made to supply his absence. The fault was not in his "being away," but in there being- no management to supplement his " being away." When the sun is under a total eclipse or during his nightly absence, we light candles. But it would seem as if it did not occur to us that we must also supplement the person in charge of sick or of children, whether under an occasional eclipse or during a regular absence. In institutions where many lives would be lost and the eifect of such want of management would be terrible and patent, there is less of it than in the private house.* Petty manaffo- * So true is this that I could mention two cases of women of very high posi- ment bettei tion, both of whom died in the same way of the consequences of a surgical understood ia operation. And in both cases, 1 was told by the highest authority that the fatal institutions result would not have happened in a London hospital. than in private But, as far as regards the art of petty management in hospitals, all the mill- houses, tary hospitals I know must be excluded. Upon my own experience I stand, and , I solemnly declare that I have seen or known of fatal accidents, such as suicides V mstitu- in delirium tieinens, bleedings to death, dying patients dragged out of bed by tions are the drunken Medical Staff Corps men, and many other things less patent and striking, exception . which would not have happened in London civil hospitals nursed by women. The medical officers should be absolved from all blame in these accidents. How can a medical officer mount guard all day and all night over a patient (say) in deli- rium tremens ? The frtult lies in there being no organized system of attendance. Were a trustworthy man in charge of each ward, or set of wards, not as office clerk, but as head nurse, (and head nurse the be.st hospital Serjeant, or ward mas- ter, is not now and cannot be, from default of the proper regulations), the thing would not, in all probability, have happened. But were a trustworthy tvornan in charge of the ward, or set of wards, the thing would not, in all certainty, have happened. In other words, it does not happen where a trustworthy woman is really in charge. And, in these remarks, 1 by no means refer only to exceptional times of great emergency in war hospitals, but also, and quite as much, to the ordinary run of military hospitals at home, in time of peace ; or to a time in war when our army was actually more healthy than at home in peace, and the pres- sure on our hospitals consequently much less. It is often said that, in regimental hospitals, patients ought to "nurse each Nursing in other,'' because the number of sick altogether being, say, but thirty, and out Regimental of these one only perhaps being seriously' ill, and the other twenty-nine having Hospitals, little the matter with them, and nothing to do, they should be set to nurse the one ; also, that soldiers are so trained to obey, that they will be the most obedient, and therefore the best of nurses, add to which they are always kind to their comrades. Now, have those who say this considered that, in ord'^r to obey, you must know /low to obey, and that these soldiers certainly do not know how to obey in nursing. I have seen these "kind" fellows land how kind they are no one knows so well as myself) move a comrade so that, m one case at least, the man died in the act. I have seen the comrades' " kindness " produce abundance of spirits, to be drunk in secret. Let no one understand by this that female nurses ought to, or could be introduced in reginientnl hospitals. It would be most undesirable, even were it not impossible. But the head nurseship of a hospital l»e " in cluir 24 KOTES ON NURSING. But in both, let whoever is in charge keep this simple question m her head {not, how can I always do this right thing myself, but) how can I provide for this right thing to be always done ? Then, when anything wrong has actually happened in consequence of her absence, which absence we will suppose to have been quite right, let her question still be {not, how can I provide against any more of such absences ? which is neither possible nor desirable, but) how can I provide against any thing wrong arising out of my absence ? What it is to How few men, or even women, understand, either in great or in little things, what it is the being " in charge " — I mean, know how to carry out a " charge." From the most colossal calamities, down to the most trifling accidents, results are often traced (or rather not traced) to such want of some one " in charge " or of his knowing how to be "in charge." A short time ago the bursting of a funnel-casing on board the finest and strongest ship that ever was built, on her trial trip, destroyed several lives and put several hundreds in jeopardy — not from any undetected flaw in her new and untried works — but from a tap being closed which ought not to have been closed — from what every child knows would make its mother's tea-kettle burst. And this simply because no one seemed to know what it is to be " in charge," or ivlio was in charge. Nay more, the jury at the inquest actually altogether ignored the same, and apparently considered the tap "ill charge," for they gave as a verdict "accidental death." This is the meaning of the word, on a large scale. On a much smaller scale, it happened, a short time ago, that an insane person burnt herself slowly ana mtentionaliy to death, while in her doctor's charge and almost m her nurse's presence. Yet neither was consi- dered "at all to blame." The very fact of the accident happening proves its own case. There is nothing more to be said. Either they did not know their business or they did not know how to perform it. To be "in charge " is certainly not only to carry out the proper measures yourself but to see that every one else does so too ; to see that no one either wilfully or ignorantly thwarts or prevents such measures. It is neither to do everything yourself nor to appoint a number of people to each duty, but to ensure that each does that duty to which he is appointed. This is the meaning which must be attached to the word by (above all) those " in charge " of sick, whether of numbers or of individuals, (and indeed I think it is with individual sick that it is least understood. One sick person is often waited on by four M'ith less precision, and is really less cared for than ten who are waited on by one ; or at least than 40 who are waited on by 4; and all for want of this one person " in charge"). Serjeant is the more essential, the more important, the more inexperienced the nurses. Undoubtedly, a London hospital " sister " does sometimes set relays of patients to watch a critical case ; but, undoubtedly also, always under her own superintendence ; and she is called to whenever there is something to be done, and she knows how to do it. The patients are not left to do it of their own xmassisted genius, however " kinfl " and willing they may be. NOISE. 25 It is often said that there are few good servants now : I say there are few good mistresses now. As the jury seems to have thought the tap was in charge of the ship's safety, so mistresses now seem to think the house is in charge of itself. They neither know^ how to give orders, nor how to teach their servants to obey orders — /. e. to obey intelligently, which is the real meaning of all discipline. Again, people who are in charge often seem to have a pride in feel- ing that they will be " missed," that no one can understand or carry on their arrangements, their system, books, accounts, &c., but them- selves. It seems to me that the pride is rather in carrying on a system, in keeping stores, closets, books, accounts, &c., so that any body can understand and carry them on — so that, in case of absence or illness, one can deliver every thing up to others and know that all will go on as usual, and that one shall never be missed. Note. — It is often complained, that professional nurses, brought into private Why hired famil'es, in case of sickness, make tliemselves intolerable by "ordering about" the nurses give so other servants, under plea of not neglectmg the patient. Both things are true ; the mucb trouble, patient is often neglected, and the servants are often unfairly " put upon." But the fault is generally in the want of management of the head in charge. It is surely for her to arrange both that the nurse's place is, when necessary, supple- mented, and that the patient is never neglected — things with a little manage- ment quite compatible, and indeed only attainable together. It is cenainly not for the nurse to " order about' the servants. IV. NOISE. Unnecessary noise, or noise that creates an expectat?ion in the Unnecessary mind, is that which hurts a patient. It is rarely the loudness of the noise, noise, the effect upon the organ of the ear itself, which appears to affect the sick. How well a patient will generally bear, e.g., the putting up of a scaffolding close to the house, when he cannot bear the talking, still less the whispering, especially if it be of a familiar voice, outside his door. There are certain patients, no doubt, especially where there ia slight concussion or other disturbance of the brain, who are affected by mere noise. But intermittent noise, or sudden 'and sharp noise, in these as in all other cases, affects far more than continuous noise — noise with jar far more than noise without. Of one thing you may be certain, that anything which wakes a patient suddenly out of his sleep will invariably put him into a state of greater excitement, do him more serious, aye, and lasting mischief, than any continuous noise, however loud. Never to allow a patient to be waked, intentionally or accident- Never let a ally, is a sine qua non of all good nursing. If he is roused out of his patient be first sleep, he is almost certnin to have no more sleep. It is a curious ^^i^^ J^"!' ^^ but quite intelligible fact that, if a patient is waked after a few ^^^ ^^^^ ^'^^P* hours' instead of a few minutes' sleep, he is much more likely to sleep again. Because pain, like irritability of brain, perpetuates and intensifies itself. If you have gained a respite of either in sleep 26 NOTES ON NURSING. Noise which excites expec tatiou. AVhispored couver.-ation in the room, Or just out- side the door Noise of femal dress. you have gained more than the mere respite. Both the probability of recurrence and of the same intensity will be diminished ; whereas both will be terribly increased by want of sleep. This is the reason why sleep is so all-important. This is the reason why a patient waived in the early part of his sleep loses not only his sleep, but his power to sleep. A healthy person who allows himseif to sleep during the day will lose his sleep at night. But it is exactly the reverse with the sick generally ; the more they sleep, the better will they be able to sleep. I have often been surprised at the thoughtlessness, (resulting in cruelty, quite unintentionally) of friends or of doctors who will hold a long conversation just in the room or passage adjoining to the room of the patient, who is either every moment expecting them to come in, or who has just seen them, and knows they are talking about him. If he is an amiable patient, he will try to occupy his attention elsewhere and not to listen — and this makes matters worse — for the strain upon his attention and the effort he makes are so great that it is well if he is not worse for hours after. If it is a whispered conversation in the same room, then it is absolutely cruel ; for it is impossible that the patient's attention should not be involuntarily strained to hear. Walking on tip-toe, doing any thing in the room very slowly, are injurious, for exactly the same reasons. A firm light quick step, a steady quick hand are the desiderata ; not the slow, lingering, shufHing foot, the timid, uncertain touch. Slowness is not gentleness, though it is often mistaken for such ; quickness, lightness, and gentleness are quite compatible. Again, if friends ai.d doctors did but watch, as nurses can and should watch, the features sharpening, the eyes growing almost wild, of fever patients who are listening for the entrance from the corridor of the persons whose voices they are hearing there, these would never run the risk again of creating such expectation, or irritation of mind. — Such unnecessary noise has undoubtedly induced or aggravated delirium in many cases. I have known such — in one case death ensued. It is but fair to say that this death was attri- buted to fright. It was the result of a long whispered conversation, within sight of the patient, about an impending operation ; but au} one who has known the more than stoicism, the cheerful coolness, with which the certainty of an operation will be accepted by any patient, capable of bearing an operation at all, if it is properly communi- cated to him, will hesitate to believe that it was mere fear which pro- duced, as was averred, the fatal result in this instance. It w-as rather the uncertainty, the strained expectation as to what was to be decided upon. I need hardly say that the other common cause, namely, for a . doctor or friend to leave the patient and communicate his opinion on the result of his visit to the friends just outside the patient's door, or in the adjoining room, after the visit, but within hearing or know- ledge of the patient is, if possible, worst of all. e It is, I think, alarming, peculiarly at this time, when the female ink-bottles are perpetually impressing upon us "w^oman's" "parti- X0I8E. 27 cular worth and general miasionariness," to see that the dress of women is daily more and more unfitting them for any " mission," or usefulness at all. It is equally unfitted for all poetic and all domestic purposes. A man is now a more handy and far less objectionable being in a sick-room than a woman. Compelled by her dress, every woman now either shuffles or waddles — only a man can cross the floor of a sick-room without shaking it ! What is become of woman's light step ? — the firm, light, quick step we have been asking for ? Unnecessary noise, then, is the most cruel absence of care which can be inflicted either on sick or well. For, in all these remarks, the sick are only mentioned as suflering in a greater proportion than the well from precisely the same causes. Unnecessary (although slight) noise injures a sick person much more than necessary noise (of a much 2:reater amount). All doctrines about mysterious affinities and aversions will be Patient's ro- found to resolve themselves very much, if not entirely, into presence Pulsion to , n • ii J.1 • nurses who or absence or care in these things. rustle A nurse who rustles ([ am speaking of nurses professional and unprofessional) is the horror of a patient, though perhaps he does not know why. The fidget of silk and of crinoline, the rattling of keys, the creaking of stays and of shoes, will do a patient more harm than all the medi- cines in the world will do him good. The noiseless step of woman, the noiseless drapery of woman, are mere figures of speech in this day. Her skirts (and well if they do not throw down some piece of furniture) will at least brush against every article in the room as she moves.* Again, one nurse cannot open the door without making everything rattle. Or she opens the door unnecessarily often, for want of remembering all the articles that might be brought in at once. A good nurse will always make sure that no door or window in her patient's room shall rattle or creak ; that no blind or curtain shall, by any change of wind through the open window, be made to flap — especially will she be careful of all this before she leaves her patients for the night. If you wait till your patients tell you, or remind you of these things, where is the use of their having a nurse ? There are more shy than exacting patients, in all classes ; and many * Fortunate it is if her skirts do not catch fire — and if the nurse does not give Burning of tl: herself up a sacrifice together with her patient, to be burnt in her own petticoats, crinolines. 1 wish the Registrar-General would tell us the exact number of deaths by burning occasioned by this absurd and hideous custom. But if people will be stupid, let them take measures to protect themselves from their own stupidity — measures which every chemist knows, such as putting alum into starch, which prevents starched articles of dress from blazing up. I wish too that people who wear crinoline could see the indecency of their Indecency of own dress as other people see it. A respectable elderly woman stooping for- the crinoiiues ward, invested in crinoline, exposes quite as much of her own person to the patient lying in the room as any opera dancer does on the stage. But no one will ever tell her this unpleasant truth. 28 NOTES ON NURSING. Hurry pecu- liarly luutful to sick. ITow to visit the sick and not hurt them, These things not fancy. Interruption damaging to eick a patient pns?es a bad night, time after time, rather than remind his nurse every night of all the things she has forgotten. If there are blinds to your windows, always take care to have them well up, when they are not being used. A little piece slipping down, and flapping with every draught, will distract a patient. All hurry or bustle is peculiarly painful to the sick. And when a patient has compulsory occupations to engage him, instead of having simply to amuse himself, it becomes doubly injurious. The friend who remains standing and fidgetting about while a patient is talking business to him, or the friend who sits and proses, the one from an idea of not letting the patient talk, the other from an idea of amusing him, — each is equally inconsiderate. Always sit down when a sick person is talking business to you, show no signs of hurry, give complete attention and full consideration if your advice is wanted, and go away the moment the subject is ended. Always sit within the patient's view, so that when you speak to him he has not painfully to turn his head round in order to look at you. Everybody involuntarily looks at the person speaking. If you make this act a wearisome one on the part of the patient you are doing him harm. So also if by continuing to stand you make him continuously raise his eyes to see you. Be as motionless as possible, and never gesticulate in speaking to the sick. Never make a patient repeat a message or request, especially if it be some time after. Occupied patients are often accused of doing too much of their own business. They are instinctively right. How often you hear the person, charged with the request of giving the message or writing the letter, say half an hour afterwards to the patient, " Did you appoint 12 o'clock ?" or, " What did you say was the address ?" or ask perhaps some much more agitating question — thus causing the patient the effort of memory, or worse still, of decisioUj all over again. It is really less exertion to him to write his letters himself. This is the almost universal experience of occupied invalids. This brings us to another caution. Never speak to an invalid from behind, nor from the door, nor from any distance from him, nor when he is doing anything. The official politeness of servants in these things is so grateful to invalids, that many prefer, without knowing why, having none but servants about them. These things are not fancy. If we consider that, with sick as with well, every thought decomposes some nervous matter, — that decomposition as well as re-composition of nervous matter is always going on, and more quickly with the sick than with the well, — that, to obtrude abruptly another thought upon the brain while it is in the act of destroying nervous matter by thinking, is calling upon it to make a new exertion, — if we consider these things, which are facts, not fancies, we shall remember that we are doing positive injury by interrupting, by "startling a fanciful" person, as it is called. Alas! it is no fancy. If the invalid is forced, hj his avocations, to continue occupations NOISE. 29 roqutrmg much thinking, the injury is do ably great. In feeding a patient suftering under delirium or stupor you may suffocate him, by giving him his food suddenly, but if you rub his lips gently with a spoon and thus attract his attention, he will swallow the food unconsciously, but with perfect safety. Thus it is with the brain. If you offer it a thought, especially one requiring a decision, abruptly, you do it a real not fanciful injury. Never speak to a sick person suddenly; but, at the same time, do not keep his expectation on the tiptoe. This rule, indeed, applies to the well quite as much as to the sick. And to well. I have never known persons who exposed themselves for years to constant interruption wiio did not muddle away their intellects by it at last. The process with them may be accomplished without pain. With the sick, pain gives warning of the injury. Do not meet or overtake a patient who is moving about in order Keeping a to speak to him, or to give him any message or letter. Tou might patient just as well give him a box on the ear. I have seen a patient fall standing. flat on the ground who was standing when his nurse came into the room. This was an accident which might have happened to the most careful nurse. But the other is done with intention. A patient in such a state is not going to the East Indies. If you would wait ten seconds, or walk ten yards further, any promenade he could make would be over. You do not know the effort it is to a patient to remain standing for even a quarter of a minute to listen to you. If I had not seen the thing done by the kindest nurses and friends, I should have thought this caution quite superfluous.* Patients are often accused of being able to " do much more when Tatients dread nobody is by." It is quite true that they can. Unless nurses can surprise, be brought to attend to considerations of the kind of which we have given here but a few specimens, a very weak patient finds it really much less exertion to do things for himself than to ask for them. And he will, in order to do them, (very innocently and from instinct) calculate the time his nurse is likely to be absent, from a fear of her " coming in upon" him or speaking to him, just at the moment when he finds it quite as much as he can do to crawl from his bed to his chair, or from one room to another, or down stairs, or out of doors for a few minutes. Some extra call made upon his attention at that moment will quite upset him. In these cases you may be sure that a patient in the state we have described does not make such exertions more than once or twice a-day, and probably * It ig absolutely essential that a nurse should lay this down as a positive rule Never speak ta to herself, never to speak to any patient who is standing or moving, as 1 ng as a patient in she exercises so little observation as not to know when a patient cannot bear it. the act of I am satisfied that many of the accidents which happen from feeble patients tumb- moving, ling down stairs, fainting after getting up, &c., happen solely fro.n the nurse pop- ping out of a door to speak to the patient just at that moment ; or from his fearing that she will do so. And that if the patient were even left to himself, till he ciux sit down, such aeci'lents would much seldomer occur. If the nurse accompanies the patient let her not call upon him to speak. It is incredible that nurses can- not piciure to themselves the strain upon the heart, the lungs, and the braia which the act of moving is to any iecblc pa'icnt. 30 NOTES ON NCIISING. much about the same hour every day. And it is hard, indeed, if nurse and friends cannot calculate so as to let him make them undisturbed. Eeraember, that many patients can walk who cannot stand or even sit up. Standing is, of all positions, the most trying to a weak patient. Everytliing you do in a patient's room, after he is ''put up " for the night, increases tenfold the risk of his having a bad night. But, if you rouse hira up after he has fallen asleep, you do not risk, you secure him a bad night. One hint I would give to all who attend or visit the sick, to all who have to pronounce an opinion upon sickness or its pro- gress. Come back and look at your patient after he has had an hour's animated conversation with you. It is the best test of his real state we know. But never pronounce upon him from merely seeing what he does, or how he looks, during such a conver- sation. Learn also carefully and exactly, if you can, how he passed the night after it. Effects of over- People rarely, if ever,f[nnt while making an exertion. It is after gi^k" ^^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ over. Indeed, almost every effect of over-exertion appears after, not during such exertion. It is the highest folly to judge of the sick, as is so often done, when you see them merely during a period of excitement. People have very often died of that which, it has been proclaimed at the time, has " done them no harm."^' Eemember never to lean against, sit upon, or unnecessarily shake, or even touch the bed in which a patient lies. This is inva- riably a painful annoyance. If you shake the chair on which he sits, he has a point by which to steady himself, in his feet. But on a bed or sofa, he is entirely at your mercy, and he feels every jar you give him all through him. Jjitierence \^ all that we have said, both here and elsewhere, let it be and^fanev^^ distinctly understood that we are not speaking of hypochondriacs, patients. '^^ distinguish between real and fancied disease forms an important branch of the education of a nurse. To manage fancy patients forms an important branch of her duties. But the nursing which real and that which fancied patients require is of different, or rather of opposite, character. And the latter will not be spoken of here. Indeed, many of the symptoms which are here mentioned are those which distinguish real from fancied disease. Oareless obser- * -'^s ^"^ old experienced nurse, I do most earnestly deprecate all such careless vation of the ^vords. I have known patients delirious all night, after seeing a visitor who results of care- "-'al'ed them " better," thought they "only wanted a little amusement," and who less visits. oame again, saying, "I hope you were not the worse for my visit," neither wait- ing for an answer, nor even looking at the case. Ko r.al patient will ever say, " Yes, but I was a great deal the worrrc." It is not, however, either death or delirium of which, in these cases, there is most danger to the patient. Unperceived consequences are far more likely to ensue. You will have impunity— the poor patient will not. That is, the patient, will suflTer, althoiigh neither he nor the inflictor of the injury will attribute it to its real cause. It will not be directly traceable, except by a very careful oi)servant nurse. The patient will often not even mention what has done him laoKt barm. NOISE. 31 It is true that hypochondriacs very often do that behind a nurse's back which they would not do before her face. Many such I have had as patients who scarcely ate anything at their regular meals ; but if you concealed food for them in a drawer, they would take it at night or in secret. But this is from quite a different motive. They do it from the wish to conceal. AVhereas the real patient will often boast to his nurse or doctor, if these do not shake their heads at him, of how much he has done, or eaten, or walked. To return to real disease. Conciseness and decision are, above all things, necessary with the Conciseness sick. Let your thought expressed to them be concisely and decidedly necessary with expressed. What doubt and hesitation there may be in your own Sick, mind must never be comtiiunicaced to theirs, not even (I would rather say especially not) in little things. I^et your doubt be to yourself, your decision to them. People who think outside their "heads, the whole process of whose thought appears, like Homer's, in the act of secretion, who tell everything that led them towards this conclusion and away from that, ought never to be with the sick. Irresolution is what all patients most dread. Eather than meet Irresolution this in others, they will collect all their data, and make up their minds most painful for themselves. A change of mind in others, whether it is regarding to them an operation, or re-writing a letter, always injures the patient more than the being called upon to make up his mind to the most dreaded or difficult decision. Farther than this, in very many cases, the imagination in disease is far more active and vivid than it is in health. If you propose to the patient change of air to one place one hour, and to another the next, he has, in each case, immediately constituted himself in imagination the tenant of the place, gone over the whole premises in idea, and you have tired him as much by displacing his imagination, as if you had actually carried him over both places. Above all leave the sick room quickly and come into it quickly, not suddenly, not with a rush. But don't let the patient be wearily waiting for when you will be out of the room or when you will be in it. Conciseness and decision in your movements, as well as your words, are necessary in the sick room, as necessary as absence of hurry and bustle. To possess yourself entirely will ensure you from either failing — either loitering or hurrying. If a patient has to see, not only to his own but also to his nurse's What apatieni punctuaiity, or perseverance, or readiness, or calmness, to any or all must not have of these things, he is far better without that nurse than with her — ^ see to. however valuable and handy her services may otherwise be to him, and however incapable he may be of rendering them to himself. With regard to reading aloud in the sick room, my experience Reading is, that when the sick are too ill to read to themselves, they can a!oud. seldom bear to be read to. Children, eye-patients, and uneducated persons are exceptions, or where there is any mechanical difficulty in reading. People who like to be read to, have generally not much the matter with them; while in fevers, or where there is much irri- tability of brain, the effort of listening to reading aloud has often 82 NOTES ON NURSING. brought on delirium. I speak with great diffidence; because there is an ahnost universal impression that it is sparing the sick to read aloud to them. But two things are certain : — Read aloud ^j^ ^ jf there is some matter which must be read to a sick diTinctlv and P^^^^n, do it slowly. People often think that the way to get it steadily Vo the over with least fatigue to him is to get it over in least time. They sick. gabble ; they plunge and gallop through the reading. There never was a greater mistake. Houdin, the conjuror, says that the way to make a story seem short is to tell it slowly. So it is with reading to the sick. I have often heard a patient say to such a mistaken reader, "Don't read it to me; tell it me."* Unconsciously he is aware that this will regulate the plunging, the reading with unequal paces, slurring over one part, instead of leaving it out altogether, if it is unimportant, and mumbling another. If the reader lets his cwn attention wander, and then stops to read up to himself, or finds he has read the wrong bit, then it is all over with the poor patient's chance of not suffering. Very few people know how to read to the sick ; very few read aloud as pleasantly even as they speak. In reading they sing, they hesitate, they stammer, they hurry, they mumble; when in speaking they do none of these things. Eeading aloud to the sick ought always to be rather slow, and exceedingly distinct, but not mouthing — rather monotonous, but not sing song — rather loud, but not noisy — and, above all, not too long. Be very sure of what your patient can bear. 1 ^lV^f[^ (2.) The extraordinary habit of reading to oneself in a sick room, and" starts to ^^^^ reading aloud to the patient any bits which will amuse him or the sick. more often the reader, is unaccountably thoughtless. What do you think the patient is thinking of during your gaps of non-reading ? Do you think that he amuses himself upon what you have read for precisely the time it pleases you to go on reading to yourself, and that his attention is ready for something else at precisely the time it pleases you to begin reading again ? AVhether the person thus read to be sick or well, whether he be doing nothing or doing something else while being thus read to, the self-absorption and want of obser- vation of the person who does it, is equally difficult to understand — although very often the readme is too amiable to say how much it disturbs him. ^ I ^ , One thing more : — From the flimsy manner in which most modern over ea . houses^ are built, where every step on the stairs, and along the floors, is felt all over the house ; the higher the story, the greater the vibration. It is inconceivable how much the sick suffer by having anybody overhead. In the solidly built old houses, which, fortunately, most hospitals are, the noise and shaking is comparatively trifling. But it is a serious cause of suflering, in lightly built houses, and with the irritability peculiar to some diseases. i3etter far put such patients at the top of the house, even with the additional fatigue of stairs, if you cannot secure the room above them being The sick would ffSffir ^t"^^ • * ^^^^ children, if not too shy to speak, will always express this wish. They it rS to^.W ^"^^'^"^^^y r^^^er a story to be told to theui, rather than read to them. VAEIETT. 33 untenanted; you may otherwise bring on a state of restlessness which no opium will subdue. Do not neglect the warning, when a patient tells you that he " Eeels every step above him to cross his heart." Remember that every noise a patient cannot see partakes of the character of suddenness to him; and I am persuaded that patients with these peculiarly irritable nerves, are positively less injured by having persons in the same room with them than overhead, or separated by only a thin compartment. Any sacrifice to secure silence for these cases is worth while, because no air, however good, no attendance, however careful, will do anything for such cases without quiet. Note. — The effect of music upon the sick has been scarcely at all noticed. Musiv. In fact, its expensiveness, as it is now, makes any general application of it quite out of the question, I will only remark here, that wind instruments, including the human voice, and stringed instruments, capable of continuous sound, have generally a beneficent effect — Avhile the piano-forte, with such instrumeuts as have no continuity of sound, has just the reverse. The finest piano-forte playing will damage the sick, while an air, like ''Home, sweet home," or "Assisa a pi^ d'un salice," on the most ordinary grinding organ will sensibly soothe them — and this quite independent of association y. VARIETY. To any but an old nurse, or an old patient, the degree would be Variety a quite inconceivable to which the nerves of the sick suffer from seeing means oi the same walls, the same ceiling, the same surroundings during a ^^c<^^'^0'- long confinement to one or two rooms. The superior cheerfulness of persons suffering severe paroxysms of pain over that of persons suffering from nervous debility has often been remarked upon, and attributed to the enjoyment of the former of their intervals of respite. I incline to think that the majority of cheerful cases is to be found among those patients who are not con- fined to one room, whatever their suffering, and that the majority of depressed cases will be seen among those subjected to a long monotony of objects about them. The nervous frame really suffers as much from this as the diges- tive organs from long monotony of diet, as e.y. the soldier from his twenty-one years' " boiled beef" The effect in sickness of beautiful objects, of variety of objects, <-'olour and and especially of brilliancy of colour is hardly at all appreciated. form means of Such cravings are usually called the "fancies" of patients. And often doubtless patients have "fancies," as, e.ff. when they desire two contradictions. But much more often, their (so called) "fancies" are the most valuable indications of what is necessary for their recovery. And it would be well if nurses would watch these (so called) "fancies" closely. I. have seen, in fevers (and felt, when I was a fever patient myself) the most acute suffering produced from the patient (in a hut) not being able to see out of window, and the knots in the wooa 34 NOTES ON NUESINO. being the only view. I shall never forget the rnptuie of fever patients over a bunch of bright-coloured flowers. 1 remember (in my own case) a nosegay of wild flowers being sent me, and from that moment recovery becoming more rapid. This is no People say the effect is only on the mind. It is no such thing. fancy. ^he effect is on the body, too. Little as we know about the way in which we are affected by form, by colour, and light, we do know this, that they have an actual physical effect. Variety of form and brilliancy of colour in the objects presented to patients are actual means of recovery. But it must be slow variety, e.g., if you shew a patient ten or twelve engravings successively, teu-to-one that he does not become cold and faint, or feverish, or even sick ; but hang one up opposite him, one on each successive day, or week, or month, and he will revel in the variety. Flowers, The folly and ignorance which reign too often supreme over the sick-room, cannot be better exemplified than by this. "While the nurse will leave the patient stewing in a corrupting atmosphere, the best ingredient of which is carbonic acid ; she will deny him, on the plea of unhealthiness, a glass of cut-flowers, or a growing plant. IS'ow, no one ever saw " overcrowding" by plants in a room or ward. And the carbonic acid they give off at nights would not poison a fly. Nav, in overcrowded rooms, they actually absorb carbonic acid and give off oxygen. Cut-flowers also decompose water and produce oxygen gas. It is true there are certain flowers, e.g., lilies, the smell of "which is said to depress the nervous system. These are easily known by the smell, and can be avoided. Eflfect of body Volumes are now written and spoken upon the eflect of the mind on mind. upon the body. Much of it is true. But I wish a little more was thought of the effect of the body on the mind. Tou who believe yourselves overwhelmed witb anxieties, but are able every day to walk up Eegent-street, or out in the country, to take your meals with others in other rooms, &c., &c., you little know how much your anxieties are thereby lightened ; you little know how intensified they become to those who can have no change ;* how the very walls of their sick rooms seem hung with their cares ; how the ghosts of their troubles haunt their beds ; how impossible it is for them to escape from a pursuing thought without some help from variety. A patient can just as much move his leg when it is fractured as change his thoughts when no external help ffom variety is given him. This is, indeed, one of the main sufferings of sickness ; just Sick suffer to * It is a matter of painful wonder to the sick themselves how much painful excess from ideas predominate ovir pleasurable ones in their impressions; they reason with mental as well themselves ; they think themselves ungrateful ; it is all of no use. The fad is. as bodily pain, th^t these painful impressions are far better dismissed by a real laugh, if you can excite one by books or conversation, than by any direct reasoning, or if the patient is too weak to laugh, some impression from nature is what he wants, i have mentioned the cruelty of letting him stare at a dead wall. In many diseases, especially in convalescence from fever, that wall will appear to make all sorts of faces at him; now flowers never do this. Form, colour, will free your patient from his painful ideas better than any argument. YAETETT. 35 as the fixed posture is one of the main sufferings of the broken limb. It is an ever recurring wonder to see educated people, who Help the sicl:-. call themselves nurses, acting thus. They vary their own objects, *<^ ^^^^'t'^^ir their own employments many times a day ; and while nursiug (I) thoughts, some bed-ridden sufferer, they let him lie there staring at a dead wall, without any change of object to enable him to vary his thoughts ; and it never even occurs to them, at least to move his bed so that he can look out of window. No, the bed is to be always left in the- darkest, dullest, remotest, part of the room.* I think it is a very common error among the well to think that "with a little more self-control" the sick might, if they choose, "dismiss painful thoughts" which "aggravate their disease," &c. Believe me, almost any sick person, who behaves decently well, exercises more self-control every moment of his day than you will ever know till you are sick yourself. Almost every step that crosses his room is painful to him ; almost every thought that crosses his brain is painful to him ; and if he can speak without being savage, and look without being unpleasant, he is exercising self-control. Suppose you have been up all night, and instead of being allowed to have your cup of tea, you were to be told that you ought to " exercise self-control," what should you say ? Now, the nerves of the sick are always in the state that yours are in after you have been up all night. AVe will suppose the diet of the sick to be cared for. Then, this Supply to the state of nerves is most frequently to be relieved by care in affording ^i-J^ the defect them a pleasant view, a judicious variety as to flowers,t and pretty ^^"^^'^"^^ things. Light by itself will often relieve it. The craving for "the ^ °^^" return of day," which the sick so constantly evince, is generally nothing but the desire for light, the remembrance of the relief which a variety of objects before the eye affords to the harassed sick mind. Again, every man and every woman has some amount of manual employn:ient, excepting a few fine ladies, who do not even dress themselves, and who are virtually in the same category, as to nerves, as the sick. Now, you can have no idea of the relief which manual labour is to you — of the degree to whicli the deprivation of manual * I rememljer a cose in point. A man received an injury to the spine, from Desperate de- an accident, which after a long confinement ended in death. He was a woricman sire in the — had not in his composition a single grain of what is called " enthusiasm lor sick to '• see nature," — but he was desperate to " see once more out of window." His nurse out of win- actually got him on her back, and managed to perch him up at the window for an dow." instant, "to see out." The consequence to the poor nuree was a serious illness, which nearly proved fatal. The man never knew it ; but a great many other people did. Yet the consequence in none of their minds, so far as I know, was the conviction that the craving for variety in the starving eye, is just as desperate as that for food in the starving stomach, and tempts the famishing creature in either case to steal for its satisfaction. No other word will express it but "des- peration." And it sets the seal of ignorance and stupidity just as much on the governors and attendants of the sick if they do not provide the sick-bed with a "view" of some kind, as if they did not provide tht^ hospital with a kitchen. t No one Tvho has watched the sick can doubt the fact, that some feel stiniulu? Physical etlect from locking at sjarlet flowers, exhaustion from looking at deep blue, &c. oi colour. JJ 2 3d 2nOTES o>' kuhsin-g^ employ merit Increases the peculiar irritability ircm rvKIcli n>auy sicli sufier. A little needle-work, a little writing, a little cleaning, would be the greatest relief the sick could have, if they could do it; these are Ihe greatest relief to you, though you do not know it. Eeading, thouge ifc is often the only thing the sick can do, is not this relief. Bearing this in mind, bearing in mind that you have all these variciies cl;' employment which the sick cannot have, bear also in mind to obtain for them all the varieties which they can enjoy. I need hardly say that I am well aware that excess in needle-work, in writing, in any other continuous employment, will produce the same irritability that defect in manual employment (as one cause) produces in the sick. VI. TAKING POOD. VVant of alien- Every careful observer of the sick will agree in this that *'^^*'^ *^^"'"^ thousands of patients are annually starved in the midst of plenty, 0 a 'ing too . ^^^^ ^ant of attention to the ways which alone make it possible for them to take food. This want of attention is as remarkable in those who urge upon the sick to do what is quite impossible to them, as in the sick themselves who will not make the effort to do what is per- fectly possible to them. Tor instance, to the large majority of very weak patients it is quite impossible to take any solid food before 11 a..m, nor then, if their strength is still further exhausted by fasting till that hour. For weak patients have generalh' feverish nights and, in the morning, dry mouths ; and, if they could eat with those dry mouths, it would be the worse for them. A spoonful of beef-tea, of arrowroot and wine, of egg flip, every hour, will give them the requisite nourish- ment, and prevent them from being too much exhausted to take at a later hour the solid food, which is necessary for their recovery. And every patient who can swallow at all can swallow these liquid things, if he chooses. But how often do we hear a mutton-chop, an Qgg^ a bit of bacon, ordered to a patient for breakfast, to whom (as a moment's consideration would show us) it must be quite impossible to masticate such things at that hour. Again, a nurse is ordered to give a patient a tea-cup full of some article of food cTcry three hours. The patient's stomach rejects it. If so, try a table-spoon full every hour ; if this will not do, a tea-spoon full every quarter of an hour. I am bound to say, that I think more patients are lost by want of care and ingenuity in these momentous minutiae in private nursing than in public hospitals. And 1 think there is more of the entente cordiale to assist one another's hands between the doctor and his head nurse in the latter institutions, than between the doctor and the patient's friends in the private house. LiFe^often j^- ^^^ ^-^ |^^^ know the consequences which may ensue, in very minuleTi " ^'tak patients, from ten minutes' fasting or repletion, (I call it repletion taking food. TAKI^'G FOOD. 37 when they are obliged to let too small an interval elapse between taking food and some other exertion, owing to the nurse's unpunctu- alitj), we should be more careful never to let this occur. In very weak patients there is often a nervous difficulty of swallowing, which is so much increased by any other call upon their strength that, un- less they have their food punctually at the minute, which minute again must be arranged so as to fall in with no other minute's occu- pation, they can take nothing till the next respite occurs — so that an unpunctuality or delay of ten minutes may verv well turn out to be one of two or three hours. And why is it not as easy to be punctual to a minute ? Life often literally hangs upon these minutes. In acute cases, where life or death is to be determined in a few hours, these matters are very generally attended to, especially in Hospitals ; and the number of cases is large where the patient is, as it were, brought back to life by exceeding care on the part of the Doctor or Nurse, or both, in ordering and giving nourishment with minute selection and punctuality. But, in chronic cases, lasting over months and years, where the Patients often fatal issue is often determined at last by mere protracted starvation, starved to I had rather not enumerate the instances which 1 have known where death in a little ingenuity, and a great deal of perseverance, might, in all ^ ^^°^^" cases- probability, have averted the result. The consulting the hours when the patient can take food, the observation of the times, often varying, when he is most faint, the altering seasons of taking food, in order to anticipate and prevent such times — all this, which requires observa- tion, ingenuity, and perseverance (and these really constitute the good Nurse), might save more lives than we wot of. To leave the patient's untasted food by his side, from meal to p^Q^i never to meal, in hopes that he will eat it in the interval, is simply to prevent be left by the him from taking any food at all. I have known patients literally patient's side, incapacitated from taking one article of food after another, by this piece of ignorance. Let the food come at the right time, and be taken away, eaten or uneaten, at the right time; but never let a patient have " something always standing " by him, if you don't wish to disgust him of everything. On the other hand, I have known a patient's life saved (he was sinking for want of food) by the simple question, put to him by the doctor, " But is there no hour when you feel you could eat?" " Oh, yes," he said, " I could always take something at — o'clock and — o'clock." The thing was 'tried and succeeded. Patients very seldom, however, can tell this ; it is for you to watch and find it out. A patient should, if possible, not see or smell either the food of Patient had others, or a greater amount of food than he himself can consume at ^^''^^^^."^^ff, ,.' ^ , r« 1 , 11 1 1 J -^ • ^1 4-4- more food thatt one tune, or even hear food talked about or see it m the raw state, j^.^ ^^^,^^ I know of no exception to the above rule. The breaking of it always induces a greater or less incapacity of taking food. In hospital wards it is of course impossible to observe all this ; and in single wards, where a patient must be continuously and closely watched, it is frequently impossible to relieve the attendant, so that 38 NOTES ON NUBSING. his or her own meals can be taken out of the ward. But it is not the less true that, in such cases, even where the patient is not himself aware of it, his possibility of taking food is limited by seeing the attendant eating meals under his observation. In some cases the sick are aware of it, and complain. A case where the patient was supposed to be insensible, but complained as soon as able to speak, is now present to my recollection. Hemember, however, that the extreme punctuality in well-ordered hospitals, the rule that nothing shall be done in the ward while the .patients are having their meals, go fur to counterbalance what un- avoidable evil there is in having patients together. I have often seen the private nurse go on dusting or fidgeting about in a sick room all the while the patient is eating, or trying to eat. That the more alone an invalid can be when taking food, the better, is unquestionable ; and, even if he must be fed, the nurse should not allow him to talk, or talk to him, especially about food, while eating. AYhen a person is compelled, by the pressure of occupation, to continue his business while sick, it ought to be a rule wcthout ant EXCEPTION wiiATEA^ER, that no ouo shall bring business to him or talk to him while he is taking food, nor go on talking to him on inte- resting subjects up to the last moment before his meals, nor make an engagement with him immediately after, so that there be any hurry of mind while taking them. Upon the observance of these rules, especially the first, often depends the patient's capability of taking food at all, or, if he is amiable and forces himself to take food, of deriving any nourishment from it. You cannot be A nurse should never put before a patient milk that is sour, meat too carefulas qj. gQ^^p ^j^^t is turned, an egg that is bad, or vegetables underdone. to quality in y^^. ^f^^^-^ j j^jj^g gg^^^ these thins^s brought in to the sick in a state sick diet. ^ ,, .Ml i * ° ^^1 5 T^ • perfectly perceptible to every nose or eye except the nurse s. it is here that the clever nurse appears ; she will not bring in the peccant article, but, not to disappoint the patient, she will whip up something else in a few minutes. Remember that sick cookery should half do the work of your poor patient's weak digestion. But if you further impair it with your bad articles, I know not what is to become of him or of it. If the nurse is an intelligent being, and not a mere carrier of diets to and from the patient, let her exercise her intelligence in these things. How often we have known a patient eat nothing at all in the day, because one meal was it^ft untasted (at that time he was incapable of eating), at another the milk was sour, the third was spoiled by some other accident. And it never occurred to the nurse to extemporize scm3 expedient, — it never occurred to her that as he had had no solid food that day, he might eat a bit of toast (say) with his tea in the evening, or he might have some meal an hour earlier. A patient who cannot touch his dinner at two, will often accept it gladly, if brought to liim at seven. But somehow nurses never "think of these things." One would imadue they did not consider WHAT FOOD ? 39 themselves bound to exercise their judgment; they leave it to the patient. Now I am quite sure that it is better for a patient rather to suffer these neglects than to try to teach his nurse to nurse him, if she does not know how. It ruffles him, and if he is ill he is in no condition to teach, especially upon himself. The above remarks apply much more to private nursing than to hospitals. I would say to the nurse, have a rule of thought about your JiTurse must patient's diet ; consider, remember how much he has had, and how have some ruk- much he ought to have to-day. Generally, the only rule of the ^[ ^hougli. private patient's diet is what the nurse has to give. It is true she ijf ent's'd* t cannot give him what she has not got ; but his stomach does not wait for her convenience, or even her necessity.* If it is used to having its stimulus at one hour to-day, and to-morrow it does not have it, because she has failed in getting it, he will suffer. She must be always exercising her ingenuity to supply defects, and to remedy accidents which will happen among the best contrivers, but from which the patient does not suffer the less, because " they cannot be helped." One very minute caution, — take care not to spill into your Keep your patient's saucer, in other words, take care that the outside bottom patient's cup rim of his cup shall be quite dry and clean ; if, every time he lifts his ^O' under- cup to his lips, he has to carry the saucer with it, or else to droj) ^^ '^"* the liquid upon, and to soil his sheet, or his bed-gown, or pillow, or if he is sitting up, his dress, you have no idea what a difference this minute want of care on your part makes to his comfort and even to his willingness for food YII. WHAT FOOD? I will mention one or two of the most common errors among Common women in charge of sick respecting sick diet. One is the belief that errors in diet, beef tea is the most nutritive of all articles. Now, just try and boil down a lb. of beef into beef tea, evaporate your beef tea, and Beef tea. see what is left of your beef. Tou will find that there is barely a tea- spoonful of solid nourishment to half a pint of water in beef tea; — never- theless there is a certain reparative quality in it, we do not know what, as there is in tea; — but it may safely be given in almost any inflammatory disease, and is as little to be depended upon with tht^ healthy or convalescent where much nourishment is required. Again, it is an ever ready saw that an egg is equivalent to a lb. of meat, — whereas it is not at all so. Also, it is seldom noticed with how many * Why, because the nurse has not got some food to-day which the patient takes, Xurse must can the patient wait four hours for food to day, who could not wait two hours yester- have some rule day 1 Yet this is the only logic one generally hears. On the other hand, the other of time al»out logic, viz., of the nurse giving a patient a thing because she has got it, is equally the patient's fatal. If she happens to have fresh jelly, or fresh fruit, she will frequently give diet, it to the patient half-an hour after his dinner, or at his dinner, when he cannot possibly eat that and the broth too— or wor.se still leave it by his bod side till he is so sickened with the sight of it, that he cannot «at it at all. 40 N'OTES ON NUBSTNG. Eg-gs. Meat without vegetables. Arrowroot. Milk, butter, cream, &c. Intelligent cravings of particular side for particular articles of diet. patients, particularly of nervous or bilious teiriperament, eggs disagree. All puddings made with eggs, are distasteful to them in eoiisequence. An egg, whipped up with wine, is often the only form in which they can take this kind of nourishment. Again, if the patient has attained to eating meat, it is supposed that to give him meat is the only thing needful for his recovery ; w-hereas scorbutic sores have been actually known to appear among sick persons living in the midst of plenty in England, which could be traced to no other source than this, viz. : that the nurse, depending on. meat alone, had allowed the patient to be without vegetables for a considerable time, these latter being so badly cooked that he always left them untouched. Arrowroot is another grand dependence of the nurse. As a vehicle for wine, and as a restorative quickly prepared, it is all very well. But it is nothing but starch and water. Flour is both more nutri- tive, and less liable to ferment, and is preferable wherever it can be used. Again, milk and the preparations from milk, are a most important article of food for the sick. Butter is the lightest kind of animal fat, and though it wants the sugar and some of the other elements which there are in milk, yet it is most valuable both in itself and in enabling the patient to eat more bread. Elour, oats, groats, barley, and their kind, are as we have already said, preferable in all their preparations to all the preparations of arrow root, sago, tapioca, and their kind. Cream, in many long chronic diseases, is quite irreplaceable by any other article whatever. It seems to act in the same manner as beef tea, and to most it is much easier of digestion than milk. In fact, it seldom disagrees. Cheese is not usually digestible by the sick, but it is pure nourishment for repairing waste ; and I have seen sick, and not a few either, whose craving for cheese shewed how much it was needed by them.* But, if fresh milk is so valuable a food for the sick, the least change or sourness in it, makes it of all articles, perhaps, the most injurious ; diarrhoea is a common result of fresh milk allowed to become at all sour. The nurse therefore ought to exercise her utmost care in this. In large institutions for the sick, even the poorest, the utmost care is exercised. Wenham Lake ice is used for this express purpose every summer, while the private patient, perhaps, never tastes a drop ol milk that is not sour, all through the hot weather, so little does the private nurse understand the necessity of such care. Yet, if you consider that the only drop of real nourishment in your patient's tea is the drop of milk, and how much almost all English patients depend * In the diseases produced by bad food, such as scorbutic dysentery and diarrhoea, the patient's stomach often craves for and digests things, some of which certainly would be laid down in no dietary that ever was invented for sick, and especially not for such sick. These are fruit, pickles, jams, gingerbread, fat of ham or of bacon, suet, cheese, butter, milk. These cases I have seen not by ones, nor by tens, but by hundreds. And the patient's stomach was right and the book was wrong. The articles craved for, in these ea?es, might have been principally arranged under the two heads of fat and vegetable acids. There is often a marked difference between men and women in this matter of sick feeding. Women's digestion is generally slower. WHAT FOOD ? 41 Upon their tea, you will see the great importance of not deprivin,^ jour patient of this drop of milk. Buttermilk, a totally dilTereiit thing, is often very useful, especially in fevers. In laying down rules of diet, by the amounts of " solid nutri- Sweet things ment " in dilferent kinds of food, it is constantly lost sight of what the patient requires to repair bis waste, what he can take and wbnt be can't. You cannot diet a patient from a book, you cannot make up the iiuman body as you would make up a prescription, — so many parts ''carboniferous," so many parts "nitrogenous" will consti- tute a perfect diet for the patient. The nurse's observation here will materially assist the doctor — the patient's "fancies" will materially assist the nurse. For instance, sugar is one of the most nutritive of all articles, being pure carbon, and is particularly recom- mended in some books. But the vast majority of all patients in England, young and old, male and female, rich and poor, hospital and private, dislike sweet things, — and while I have never known a ]ierson take to sweets when he was ill who disliked them when he was well, I have known many fond of them when in health, who in sickness would leave off anything sweet, even to sugar in tea, — sweet puddings, sweet drinks, are their aversion ; the furred tongue almost always likes what is sharp or pungent. Scorbutic patients are an exception, they often crave for sweetmeats and jams. "^Jelly is another article of diet in great favour with nurses and Jelly, friends of the sick ; even if it could be eaten solid, it would not nourish, but it is simply the height of folly to take ^ oz. of gelatine and make it into a certain bulk by dissolving it in water and then to give it to the sick, as if the mere bulk represented nourishment. It is now known that jelly does not nourish, that it has a tendency to produce diarrhcea, — and to trust to it to repair the waste of a diseased constitution is simply to starve the sick under the guise of feeding them. If 100 spoonfuls of jelly were given in the course of the day, you would have given one spoonlul of gelatine, which spoonful has no nutritive power whatever. And, nevertheless, gelatine contains a large quantity of nitrogen, which is one of the most powerful elements in nutrition; on the other hand, beef tea may be chosen as an illustration of great nutrient power in sickness, co-existing with a very small amount of solid nitrogenous m.atter. Dr. Christison says that " every one will be struck with the readi- Beef tea. ness w^ith which" certain classes of "patients will often take diluted meat juice or beef tea repeatedly, when they refuse all other kinds of food." This is particularly remarkable in " cases of gastric fever, in which," he says, "little*^ or nothing else besides beef tea or diluted meat juice" has been taken for weeks or even months, " and yet a pint of beef tea contains scarcely joz. of anything but ^yater," — the result is so strikmg that he asks what is its mode of action ? " Not simply nutrient — I oz. of the most nutritive material cannot nearly replace the daily wear and tear of the tissues in any circumstances. Possibly," he says, "it belongs to a new denomination of remedies." It has been observed that a small quantity of beef tea added to 42 NOTES ON NURSING. Observation, not chemi-sfrj-j must decide sick diet. Home mad^ bread. Sound obser- vation has scarcely y€t been brought to bear on -sick diet. otlier articles of nutrition augments their power out of all proportion to the additional amount ot solid matter. The reason why jelly should be innutritions and beef tea nutri- tious to the sick, is a secret yet undiscovered, but it clearly shows that careful observation of the sick is the only clue to the best dietary. Cliemistry has as yet afforded little insight into the dieting of sick. All that chemistry can tell us is the amount of "carboniferous" or " nitrogenous " elements discoverable in diflerent dietetic articles. It has given us lists of dietetic substances, arranged in the order of their richness in one or other of these principles ; but that is all. In the great majority of cases, the stomach of the patient is guided by other principles of selection than merely the amount of carbon or nitrogen in tlie diet. No doubt, in this as in other things, nature has very definite rules for her guidance, but these rules can only be ascertained by the most careful observation at the bed-side. She there tenches us that living chemistry, the chemistry of reparation, is something diii'erent from the chemit^try of the laboratory. Organic chemistry is useful, as all knowledge is, when we come face to face with nature ; but it by no means follows that we should learn in the laboratory any one of the reparative processes going on in disease. Again, the nutritive power of milk and of the preparations from milk, is very much undervalued ; there is nearly as much nourish- ment in half a pint of milk as there is in a quarter of a lb. of meat. But this is not the whole question or nearly the whole. The main question is what the patient's stomach can assimilate or derive nourishment from, and of this the patient's stomach is the sole judge. Chemistry cannot tell this. The patient's stomach must be its own chemist. The diet which will keep the healthy man healthy, will kill the sick one. The same beef which is the most nutritive of all meat and which nourishes the healthy man, is the least nourishing of all food to the sick man, whose half-dead stomach can assimilate no part of it, that is, make no food out of it. On a diet of beef tea healthy men on the other hand speedily lose their strength. I have known patients live for many months without touching bread, because they could not eat baker's bread. These were mostly country patients, but not all. Home-made bread or brown bread is a most important article of diet for many patients. The use of aperients may be entirely superseded by it. Oat cake is another. To watch for the opinions, then, which the patient's stomach gives, rather than to read " analyses of foods," is the business of all those who have to settle what the patient is to eat — perhaps the most important thing to be provided for him after the air he is to breathe. Now the medical man who sees the patient only once a day or even only once or twice a week, cannot possibly tell this without the assistance of the patient himself, or of those who are in constant observation on the patient. The utmost the medical man can tell is ■whether the patient is weaker or stronger at this visit than he was at the last visit. I should therefore say that incomparably the most important office of the nurse, after she has taken care of the patient's WHAT FOOD ? 43 air, is to take care to observe the eftect of his food, and report it to the medical attendant. It is quite incalculable the good that would certainly come from such sound and close observation in this almost neglected branch ot nursing, or the help it would give to the medical man. A great deal too much against tea* is said by wise people, and a Tee and coffee great deal too much of tea is given to the sick by foolish people. AYhen you see the natural and almost universal craving in English sick for their " tea," you cannot but feel that nature knows what she is about. But a little tea or coffee restores them quite as much as a great deal, and a great deal of tea and especially of coffee impairs the little power of digestion they have. Yet a nurse because she sees how one or two cups of tea or coffee restores her patient, thinks that three or four cups will do twice as much. This is not the case at all ; it is however certain that there is nothing yet discovered which is a substitute to the English patient for his cup of tea ; he can take it when he can take nothing else, and he often can't take anything else if he has it not. I should be very glad if any of the abusers of tea wouM point out what to give to an English patient after a sleepless night, instead of tea. If you give it at 5 or 6 o'clock in the morning, he may even sometimes fall asleep after it, and get perhaps his only two or three hours' sleep during the twentj^four. At the same time you never should give tea or coffee to the sick, as a rule, after 5 o'clock in the afternoon. Sleeplessness in the early night is from excitement generally and is increased by tea or coffee ; sleeplessness which continues to the ear^y morning is from exhaustion often, and is relieved by tea. The only English patients I have evei known refuse tea, have been typhus cases, and the first sign of their getting better was their craving again for tea. In general, the dry and dirty tongue always prefers tea to coffee, and will quite decline milk, unless with tea. Coffee is a better restorative than tea, but a * It is made a frequent recommendation to persons about to incur great ex- haustion, either from the nature of th-a service or from their bein^ not in a state fit for it, to eat a piece of bread before they go. I wish the recommenders would themselves try the experiment of substituting a piece of bread for a cup of tea or coffee or beef tea as a refresher. They would find it a very poor comfort. When soldiers have to set out fasting on fatiguing duty, when nurses have to go fasting in to their patients, it is a hot restorative they want, and ought to have, before they go, not a cold bit of bread. And dreadful have been the consequences of neglecting thi.s. If they can take a bit of bread with the hot cup of tea, so much the better, but not instead of it. The fact that there is more nourishment in bread than in almost anything else has probably induced the mistake. That it is a fatal mistake there is no doubt. It seems, though very little is known on the subject, that what "assimilates" itself directly and with the least trouble of digestion with the human body is the best for the above circumstances. I3rcad requires two or three processes of assimilation, before it becomes like the human body. The almost universal testimony of English men and women who have un- dergone great fatigue, such as riding long journeys without stopping, or sitting up for several nights in succession, is that they could do it best upon an occas'oi.il cap of tea— and nothing else. Let experience, uol theory, decide upon this as upon all other ihingis. 45! XOTES ON NUESINd. greater imprdrer of tlie digestion. Let the patient's taste decide. You will say that, in cases of great thirst, the patient's craving decides that it will drink a great deal of tea, and that you cannot help it. But in these cases be sure that the patient requires diluents for quite other purposes than quenching the thirst ; he wants a great deal of some drink, not only of tea, and the doctor will order what he is to have, barley water or lemonade, or soda water and milk, as the case may be. Lehmaun, quoted by Dr. Christison, says that, among the well and active " the infusion of 1 oz. of roasted coffee daily will diminish the waste " going on in the body " by one-fourth," andDr. Christison adds that tea has the same property. Now this is actual experiment. Lehmann weighs the man and finds the fact from his weight. It is not deduced from any "analysis" of food. All experience among the sick shows the same thing.* Cocoa. Cocoa is often recommended to the sick in lieu of tea or cofi'ee. But independently of the fact thdt English sick very generally dislike cocoa, it has quite a different effect from tea or coffee. It is an oily starchy nut having no restorative power at all, but simply increasing fat. It is pure mockery of the sick, therefore, to call it a substitute for tea. For any renovating stimulus it has, you might just as well offer them chesnuts instead of tea. ^ "'^ An almost universal error among nurses is in the bulk of the food and especially the drinks they offer to their patients. Suppose a patient ordered 4 oz. brandy during the day, how is he to take this if you make it into four pints with diluting it ? The same with tea and beef tea, with arrowroot, milk, &c. You have not increased the ]iourishment, you have not increased the renovating power of these articles, by increasing their bulk, — you have very likely diminished both by giving fhe patient's digestion more to do, and most likely of all, the patient will leave half of what he has been ordered to take, because he cannot swallow the bulk with which you have been pleased to invest it. It requires very nice observation and care (and meets with hardly any) to determine what will not be too thick or strong for the patient to take, while giving him no more than the bulk which he is able to swallow. * In making coffee, it is absolutely necessary to buy it in the berry and grind it at home. Otherwise you may reckon upon its containing a certain amount of chicory, at least. This is not a question of the taste- or of the wholesomeness of chicory. It is that chicory has nothing at all of the properties for which you give coffee. And therefore you may ag- -well not give it. Again, all laundresses, mistresses of dairy-farms, head nurses (I speak of the good old sort only— women who unite a good deal of hard manual labour with the head work necessary for arranging the day's business, so that none of it shall tread upon the heels of something else) set great value, I have observed, upon having a high-priced tea. This is called extravagant. But these women are '• extravagant" in nothing else. And they are right in this. Real tea-leaf tea alone contains the restorative they want ; which is nol to be found in sloe-leaf tea. The mistresses of houses, who cannot even go over their own house once a-day, are incapable of judging for thes^ women. For they are incapable them- selves, to all appearance, of the spirit of arrangement (no small task) necessaij for managing a large ward or dairy. BED AND BEDDING. 45 YIII. BED AND BEDDING. A few words upon bedsteads and bedding ; and principally as Feverishness regards patients who are entirely, or almost entirely, confined to bed. a symptom of Feverishness is generally supposed to be a symptom of fever— bedding. in nine cases out of ten it is a symptom of bedding.* The patient has had re-introduced into the body the emanations from himself which day after day and week after week saturate his unaired bed- ding. How can it be otherwise ? Look at the ordinary bed in which a patient lies. If I were looking out for an example in order to show what not LTncleanliness to do, I should take the specimen of an ordinary bed in a private oi ordinar>' house : a wooden bedstead, two or even three mattresses piled up to betiding, above the height of a table ; a vallance attached to the frame — nothing but a miracle could ever thoroughly dry or air such a bed and bedding. The patient must inevitably alternate between cold damp after his bed is made, and warm damp before, both saturated with organic matter,t and this from the time the mattresses are put under him till the time they are picked to pieces, if this is ever done. If you consider that an adult in health exhales by the lungs and Air your dirty skin in the twentj'-four hours three pints at least of moisture, loaded sheets, not with organic matter ready to enter into putrefaction ; that in sickness ^^h' your the quantity is often greatly increased, the quality is always more ^'^^'^ °^^^^" noxious — ^^just ask yourself next where does all this moisture go to? Chiefly into the bedding, because it cannot go anywliere else. And it stays there ; because, except perhaps a weekly change of sheets, scarcely any other airing is attempted. A nurse will be careful to fidgetiness about airing the clean sheets from clean damp, but airinf^ the dirty sheets from noxious damp will never even occur to her. Besides this, the most dangerous effluvia we know of are from the excreta of the sick — these are placed, at least temporarily, where they must throw their effluvia into the under side of the bed, and the space under the bed is never aired ; it cannot be, with our arrange- ments. Must not such a bed be always saturated, and be always the means of re-introducing into the system of the unfortunate patient wlio lies in it, that excrementitious matter to eliminate which iiorn the body nature had expressly appointed the disease ? My heart always sinks within me when I hear the good house- wife, of every class, say, " I assure you the bed has been well slept * I once told a " very good nurse" that the way in Trhich her patient's roora Nurses often was kept was quite enough to account for his sleeplessness: and she answered do not think quite good-humnuredly she was not at all surprised at it— as if the state oi the the sick room room were, like the state of the weather, entirely out of her power. Now in what anv business of sense was this woman to be called a " nurse]" theirs, but + For the same reason if, after washing a patient, you must put the same only the sick. night-dress on iiim again, always give it a preliminary warm at the fire. 'J he night-gown he has Avorn must be, to a ceHain extent, damp. It has now got cold from having been off him for a few minutes. The fire will dry and at the same lime air it. This is much more important than with clean things. 46 NOTES ON NUESING. in," and I can onl_y hope it is not true. "What ? is the bed already saturated with somebody else's damp before my patient comes to exhale into it his own damp ? Has it not had a single chance to be aired ? No, not one. " It has been slept in every niglit." Iron spring The only way of really nursing a real patient is to have an iron bedstead the bedstead, with rheocline springs, which are permeable by the air up best. to the very mattress (no vallance, of course), the mattress to be a thin hair one ; the bed to be not above 3| feet wide. If the patient Comfort and be entirely confined to his bed, there should be two such bedsteads ; cleanliness of each bed to be " made" with mattress, sheets, blankets, &c., complete two beds. — tiie patient to ])ass twelve hours in each bed ; on no account to carry his sheets with him. The whole of the bedding to be hung up to air for each intermediate twelve hours. Of course there are many cases where this cannot be done at all — many more where only an approach to it can be made. 1 am indicating the ideal of nursing, and what I have actually had done. But about the kind of bedstead there can be no doubt, whether there be one or two provided. Bed not to be There is a prejudice in favour of a wide bed — I believe it to be too wide, a prejudice. All the refreshment of moving a patient from one side to the other of his bed is far more effectually secured by putting him into a fresh bed ; and a patient who is really very ill does not stray far in bed. But it is said there is no room to put a tray down on a narrow bed. No good nurse will ever put a tray on a bed at all. If the patient can turn on his side, he will eat more comfortably from a bed-side table ; and on no account whatever should a bed ever be higher than a sofa. Otherwise the patient feels himself " out of humanity's reach"; he can get at nothing for himself: he can move nothing for himself. If the patient cannot turn, a table over the bed is a better thing. I need hardly say that a patient's bed should never have its side against the wall. The nurse must be able to get easily to both sides the bed, and to reach easily every part of the patient without stretching — a thing impossible if the bed be either too wide or too high. Bed not to be- When I see a patient in a room nine or ten feet high upon a bed too high. between four and five feet high, with his head, when he is sitting up in bed, actually within two or three feet of the ceiling, I ask myself, is this expressly planned to produce that peculiarly distressing feeling common to the sick, viz., as if the walls and ceiling were closing in upon them, and they becoming sandwiches between floor and ceiling, which imagination is not, indeed, here so far from the truth ? If, over and above this, the window stops short of the ceiling, then the patien-'s head- may literally be raised above the stratum of fresh air, even when the window is open. Can human per- versity any farther go, in unmaking the process of restoration w^iich Ood has made ? The fact is, that the heads of sleepers or of sick should never be higher than the throat of the chimney, which ensures Clieir being in the current of best air. And we will not suppose it i^ossible that you have closed your chimney with a chimney-board. If a bed is higher than a sofa, the difference of the fatigue of g-etting in and out of bed will just make the difierence, very often, to LIGHT. 47 the patient (who can get in and out of bed at all) of being able to take a few minutes' exercise, either in the open air or in another room. It is so very odd that people never think of this, or of how many more times a patient who is in bed for the twenty-four hours is obliged to get in and out of bed than they are, who only, it is to be hoped, get into bed once and out of bed once during the twenty-four hours. A patient's bed should always be in the lightest spot in the room ; Nor in a dark and he should be able to see out of window. place. I need scarcely say that the old four-post bed with curtains is Nor a four utterly inadmissible, whether for sick or well. Hospital bedsteads poster with are in many respects very much less objectionable than private <^"^t^i^s. ones. There is reason to believe that not a few of the apparently unac- Scrofula often countable cases of scrofula among children proceed from the habit ^ result of dis- of sleeping with the head under the bed clothes, and so inhaling air F°^^V°ii already breathed, which is farther contaminated by exhalations from the skin. Patients are sometimes given to- a similar habit, and it often happens that the bed clothes are so disposed that the patient must necessarily breathe air more or less contaminated by exhala- tions from his skin. A good nurse will be careful to attend to this. It is an important part, so to speak, of ventilation. It may be worth while to remark, that where there is any danger Bed sores, of bed-sores a blanket should never be placed under the patient. It retains damp and acts like a poultice. N'ever use anything but light "Witney blankets as bed covering Heavy and im- for the sick. The heavy cotton impervious counterpane is bad, for pervious bed- the very reason that it keeps in the emanations from the sick person, clothes, while the blanket allows them to pass through. Weak patients are invariably distressed by a great weight of bed-clothes, which often prevents their getting any sound sleep whatever. Note. — One word' about pillowsi Every weak patient, be his illness what it may, suffers more or less from difliculty in breathing. To take the we ght of the body off the poor chest, which is hardly up to its work as it is, ought therefore to be the object of the nurse in arranging his pillows. Now what does she do and what are the consequences'? She piles the pillows one a-top of the other like a Avail of bricks. The head is thrown upon the chest. And the shoulders are pushed forward, so as not to allow the lungs room to expand. The pillows, in fa?t, lean upon the patient, not the patient upon the pillows. It is impossible to give a rule for this, because it must vary with the figure of the patient. And tall patients suffer much more than short ones, because of the drag of the- long limbs upon the waist. But the object is to support, with the pilloAvs, the back helow the breathing apparatus, to allow the shoulders room to fall back, and' to support the head, without throwing it forward The suffering of dying patients is jra- mensely increased by neglect of these points. And many an invalid, tco wrnk to drag about his pillows himself, slips his book or anything at hand behind the lower part of his back to support it. IX. LIGHT. It is the unqualified result of all my experience with the sick, Light essential that second only to their need of fresh air is their need of light ; *° Y^^ health •' ° and recovery. 48 NOTES ON NURSING. that, after a close room, what hurts them most is a dark room. And that it is not only light hut direct sun-light they want. I had rather have the power of carrying my patient about after the sun, according to the aspect of the rooms, if circumstances permit, than let him linger in a room when the sun is off. People think the effect is upon the spirits only. This is by no means the case. The sun is not only a painter but a sculptor. You admit that he does the photograph. Without going into any scientific exposition we must admit that light has quite as real and tangible effects upon the human body. But this is not all. Who has not observed the purifying effect of light, and especially of direct sunliglit, upon the air of a room ? Here is an observation within everybody's expe- rience. Go into a room where the shutters are always shut, (in a sick room or a bedroom there should never be shutters shut), and though the room be uninhabited, though the air has never been polluted by the breathing of human beings, you will observe a close, musty smell of corrupt air, of air i. e. unpurified by the effect of the sun's rays. The mustiness of dark rooms and corners, indeed, is proverbial. The cheerfulness of a room, the usefulness of light in treating disease is all-important. Aspect, view, ^ very high authority in hospital construction has said that and sunlight people do not enough consider the difference between wards and matters of first dormitories in planning their buildings. But I go farther, and say, importance ^]^^^ healthy people never remember the difference between bed- rooms and sick-rooms, in making arrangements for the sick. To a sleeper in health it does not signify what the view is from his bed. He ought never to be in it excepting when asleep, and at night. Aspect does not very much signify either (provided the sun reach his bed-room some time in every day, to purify the air), because he ought never to be in his bed-room except during the hours when there is no sun. But the case is exactly reversed with the sick, even should they be as many hours out of their beds as you are in yours, which probably they are not. Therefore, that they should be able, without raising themselves or turning in bed, to see out of window from their beds, to see sky and sun-light at least, if you can show them nothing else, I assert to be, if not of the very first importance for recovery, at least something very near it. And you should there- fore look to the position of the beds of your sick one of the very first things. If they can see out of two windows instead of one, so much the better. Again, the morning sun and the mid-day sun — the hours when they are quite certain not to be up, are of more importance to them, if a choice must be made, than the afternoon sun. Perhaps you can take them out of bed in the afternoon and set them by the window, where they can see the sun. But the best rule is, if possible, to give them direct sun-light from the moment he rises till the moment he sets. Another great difference between the hed-voom and the sick-room. is, that the sleeper has a very large balance of fresh air to begin with, when he begins the night, if his room has been open all day as it ought to be ; the sick man has not, because all dav he has beeu CLEANLINESS OF ROOMS AND WALLS. 49 breathing the air in the same room, and dirtying it by the emanations from himself. Far more care is therefore necessary to keep up a constant change of air in the sick room. It is hardly necessary to add that there are acute cases (particu- larly a few ophthalmic cases, and diseases where the eye is morbidly sensitive), where a subdued light is necessary. But a dark nortli room is inadmissible even for these. You can always moderate the light by blinds and curtains. Heavy, thick, dark window or bed curtains should^ however, hardly ever be used for any kind of sick in this country. A light white curtain at the head of the bed is, in general, all tliat is neces- sary, and a green blind to the window, to be drawn down only when necessary <, One of the greatest observers of human things (not physiological) , ^Vithout sun- says, in another language, " Where there is sun there is thought." light, we de- All physiology goes to confirm this. Where is the shady side of generate bodj deep valleys, there is cretinism. Where are cellars and the un- J^m^i- sunned sides of narrow streets, there is the degeneracy and weakli- ness of the human race — mind and body equally degenerating. Put the pale withering plant and human being into the sun, and, if not too far gone, each will recover health and spirit. It is a curious thing to observe how almost all patients lie with Almost all their faces turned to the light, exactly as plants always make their patients lie way towards the light ; a patient will even complain that it gives J^^^^ ^}^^l^ him pain "lying on that side." "Then why do you lie on that }■ ^^^J^ ^ side?" He does not know, — but we do. It is because it is the side '^ towards the window. A fashionable physician has recently published in a government report that he always turns his patients' faces from the light. Yes, but nature is stronger than fashionable physicians, and depend upon it she turns the faces back and toipards such light as she can get. "Walk through the wards of a hospital, remember the bed sides of private patients you have seen, and count how many sick you ever saw lying with their faces towards the wall. X. CLEANLINESS OF EOOMS AND WALLS It cannot be necessary to tell a nurse that she should be clean Cleanliness of or that she should keep her patient clean, — seeing that the greater carpets and part of nursing consists in preserving cleanliness. No ventilation ''^^^ ^^^' can freshen a room or ward where the most scrupulous cleanliness is not observed. Unless the wind be blowing through the windows at the rate of twenty miles an hour, dusty carpets, dirty wainscots, musty curtains and furniture, will infiUibly produce a close smell. I have lived in a large and expensively furnished London house, where the only constant inmate in two very lofty rooms, with opposite windows, was myself, and yet, owing to the abovementioned dirty ci-rcum stances, no opening of windows could ever keep those E 50 KOTES ON NUESINO. Dust never re- moved now. Floors. Papered, plastered, oil- [)amted walls. diiditd. ow a roon) is rooms free from closeness ; but the carpet and curtains having been turned out of the rooms altogether, they became instantly as fresh as could be wished. It is pure nonsense to say that in London a room cannot be kept clean. Many of our hospitals show the exact reverse. But no particle of dust is ever or can ever be removed or really got rid of by the present system of dusting. Dusting in these days means nothing but flapping the dust from one part of a room on to another with doors and windows closed. What you do it for I cannot think. You had much better leave the dust alone, if you are not going to take it away altogether. For from the time a room begins to be a room up to the time when it ceases to be one, no one atom of dust ever actually leaves its precincts. Tidying a room means nothing now but removing a thing from one place, which it has kept clean for itself, on to another and a dirtier one.* Flapping by way of cleaning is only admissible in the case of pictures, or anything made of paper. The only way I know to remove dust, the plague of all lovers of fresh air, is to wipe everything with a damp cloth. And all furniture ought to be so made as that it may be wiped with a damp cloth without injury to itself, and so polished as that it may be damped without injury to others. To dust, as it is now practised, truly means to distribute dust more equally over a room. As to floors, the only really clean floor I know is the Berlin lackered floor, which is wet rubbed and dry rubbed every morning to remove the dust. The French parquet is always more or less dusty, although infinitely superior in point of cleanliness and healthiness to our absorbent floor. For a sick room, a carpet is perhaps the worst expedient which could by any possibility have been invented. If you must have a carpet, the only safety is to take it up two or three times a year, instead of once. A dirty carpet literally infects the room. And if vou consider the enormous quantity of organic matter from the feet "of people coming in, which must saturate it, this is by no means surprising. As for walls, the worst is the papered wall ; the next worst is plaster. But the plaster can be redeemed by frequent lime-washing; the paper requires frequent renewing. A glazed paper gets rid of a If you like to clean your furniture by laying out your clean clothes upon your dirty chairs or sofa, tlais is one Avav certainly of doing it. Having witnessed the morning process called "tidying the room," for many years, and with ever- increasing astonishment, 1 can describe wnat it is. From the chairs, tables, oi sofa, upon which the " things" have lain during the night, and which are there- fore comparatively clean from dust or blacks, the poor " things' having "caught" it, they are removed to other chairs, tables, sofas, upon which you could write your name with your finger in the dust or blacks. The other side of the " things" is therefore now evenly dirtied or dusted. The housemaid then flaps every thing, or some things, not out of her reach, with a thing called a duster—' tte dust flies up, then re-settles more equally than it lay before the operatiou "i'lie room has now been " put to rightcs," CLEANLINESS OF BOOMS AND WALLS. 61 good deal of the danger. But the ordinary bed-room paper is all that it ought not to be.* The close connection between ventilation and cleanliness isr shown in this. An ordinary light paper will last clean much longer if there is an Arnott's ventilator in the chimney than it otherwise would. The best wall now extant is oil paint. Prom this you can wash the animal exuviae. t These are what make a room mu&ty. The best wall for a sick-room or ward that could be made is Best kind of pure white non-absorbent cement or glass, or glazed tiles, if they wall for a were made sightly enough. sick room. Air can be soiled just like water. If you blow into water you will soil it with the animal matter from your breath. So it is with air. Air is always soiled in a room where walls and carpets are saturated with animal exhalations. Want of cleanliness, then, in rooms and wards, which you have to guard against, may arise in three ways. 1. Dirty air coming in from without, soiled by sewer emanations. Dirty air from the evaporation from dirty streets, smoke, bits of unburnt fuel, bits- without. of straw, bits of horse dung. If people would but cover the outside w^alls of their houses with Best kind of plain or encaustic tiles, what an incalculable imjDrovement would wall lor a there be in light, cleanliness, dryness, warmth, and consequently house, economy. The play of a fire-engine would then effectually wash the outside of a house. This kind of walling would stand next to paving in improving the health of towns. 2. Dirty air coming from within, from dust, which you often Dirty air from displace, but never remove. And this recalls w-hat ought to be a within, sine qua non. Have as few ledges in your room or ward as possible. And under no pretence have any ledge whatever out of sight. Dust accumulates there, and will never be wiped off. This is a certaiu way to soil the air. Besides this, the animal exhalations from your inmates saturate your furniture. And if you never clean your furniture properly, how can your rooms or wards be anything but musty ? Ventilate as you please, the rooms will never be sweet. Besides this, there is a constant degradation, as it is called, taking place from everything except polished or glazed articles — ^. y., in colouring certain green papers arsenic is used. Now in the very dust even, which is lying about in rooms hung with this kind of green paper, arsenic has been distinctly detected. You see your dust is anything but harmless ; yet you will let such dust lie about your ledges for months, your rooms for ever. * I am sure that a person who has accustomed her senses to compare atmo- ^J^J^l "h' '" spheres proper and improper, for the sick and for children, could tell, blindfold, pllpej-eji roo„^g the difference of the air in old painted and in old papered rooms, center Is paribus, ^^^^j^^ distin- rhe latter will always be musty, even with all the windows open. _ guishable. t If you like to wipe your dirty door, or some portion of your dirty wall, by jj^^^ ^^ ^^^^^ nanging up your clean gown or shawl against it on a peg, this is one way cer- your wall cjean tainly, and the most usual way, ami generally the only Avay of cleaning either door at the expence or wall in a bed-room. ' of your clothes. e2 52 KOTES ON NUESI>'G. Dirty air from the carpet. "Remedies. Again, the fire fills the room with coal-dust. 3. Dirty air coming from the carpet. Above all, take care of the carpets, that the animal dirt left there by the feet of visitors does not stay there. Floors, unless the grain is filled up and polished, are just as bad. The smell from the floor of a school-room or ward, when any moisture brings out the organic matter by whicii it is saturated, might alone be enough to warn us of the mischief that is going on. The outer air, then, can only be kept clean by sanitary improve- ments, and by consuming smoke. The expense in soap, which this single improvement would save, is quite incalculable. The inside air can only be kept clean by excessi\'e care in the ways mentioned above — to rid the walls, carpets, furniture, ledges, &c., of the organic matter and dust — dust consisting: greatly of this organic matter — with which they become saturated, and which is what really makes the room musty. Without cleanliness,, you cannot have all the eftect of ventilation ; without ventilation, you can have no thorough cleanliness. A^'ery few people, be they of what class they may, have any idea of the exquisite cleanliness required in th@ sick room. For much of what I have said applies less to the hospital than to the private sick- room. The smoky chimney, the dusty furniture, the utensils emptied but once a day, often keep the air of the sick constantly dirty in the best private houses. The well have a curious habit of forgetting that what is to them but a trifling inconvenience, to be patiently " put up " witli, is to the sick a source of suff*ering, delaying recovery, if not actually hastening death. The well are scarcely ever more than eight hours, at most, in the same room. Some change they can always make, if only for a few minutes. Even during the supposed eight hours, they can change their posture or their position in the room. But the sick man, who never leaves his bed, who cannot change by any movement of his own hi^ air, or his light, or his warmth; who cannot obtain quiet, or get out of the smoke, or the smell, or the dust ; he is really poisoned or depressed by what is to you the merest trifle. " What can't be cured must be endured," is the very worst and most dangerous maxim for a nurse which ever was made. Patience and resignation in her are but other words for carelessnesa or indifference — contemptible, if in regard to herself; culpable, if in regard to her sick. XL PEESONAL CLEANLINESS. Poisoning by the skin. In almost all diseases, the function of the skin is, more or less, disordered ; and in many most important diseases nature relieves herself almost entirely by the skin. This is particularly the case with children. But the excretion, which comes from the skin, is left there, unless removed by washing or by the clothes. Every nurse PEESONAL CLEANLINESS. 53 should keep this fact eoiistaiitly in mind, — for, if slie allow Ler sick to remain unwashed, or their clothing to remain on them after being saturated with perspiration or other excretion, she is interfering ijijuriously with the natural processes of health just as eflectuallj as it' she were to give the patient a dose of slow poison by the mouth. Poisoning by the skin is no less certain than poisoning by the mouth — only it is slower in its operation. The amount of relief and comfort experienced by sick after the Ventilation skin has been carefully washed and dried, is one of the commonest aiidskin-clcan- observations made at a sick bed. But it must not be forgotten that ^u^ess. equally the comfort and relief so obtained are not all. They are, in fact, ^''''^'^ ^^ ' nothing more than a sign that the vital powers have been relieved by removing sometliing that was oppressing them. The nurse, there- fore, must never put off attending to the personal cleanliness of her patient under the plea that ail that is to be gained is a little relief, which can be quite as well given later. In all well-regulated hospitals this ought to be, and generally is, attended to. But it is very generally neglected with private sick. Just as it is necessary to renew the air round a sick person frequently, to carry off morbid effluvia from the lungs and skin, by maintaining free ventilation, so is it necessary to keep the pores of the skin free from all obstructing excretions. The object, both of ventilation and of skin-cleanliness, is pretty much the same, — to wit, removing noxious matter from the system as rapidly as possible. Care should be taken in all these operations of sponging, washing, and cleansing the skin, not to expose too great a surface at once, so as to check the perspiration, which would renew the evil in another form. The various ways of washing the sick need not here be specified, — the less so as the doctors ought to say which is to be used. In several forms of diarrheea, dysentery, &c., where the skin is hard and harsh, the relief afforded by washing with a great deal of soft soap is incalculable. In other cases, sponging with tepid soap and water, then with tepid water and drying with a hot towel will be ordered. Every luirse ought to be careful to wash her hands very fre- quently during the day. If her face too, so much the better. One word as to cleanliness merely as cleanliness. Compare the dirtiness of the water in which you have washed Steaminc: and when it is cold without soap, cold with soap, hot with soap. You rubbing ihe will find the first has hardly removed any dirt at all, the second a ^^^^• little more, the third a great deal more. But hold your hand over a cup of hot water for a minute or two, and then by merely rubbing with the finger, you will bring off" flakes of dirt or dirty skin. After a vapour bath you may peel your whole self clean in this way. "What I mean is, that by simply washing or sponging with water you do not really clean your skin. Take a rough towel, dip one corner in very hot water, — ^^if a little spirit be added to it it will be more effectual, — and then rub as if you were rubbing the towel into your skin with your fingers. The black flakes which will come off' will convince 54 NOTES OX NUESING. you that you were not clean before, however much soap and water you have used. Tliese flakes are what require removing. And you can really keep yourself cleaner with a tumbler of hot water and a rough towel and rubbing, than with a whole apparatus of bath and soap and sponge, without rubbing. It is quite nonsense to say that anybody need be dirty. Patients have been kept as clean bv these means on a long voyage, when a basin full of water could not be afl^brded, and when they could not be moved out of their berths, as if all the appurtenances of home had been at hand. Washing, however, with a large quantity of water has quite other effects than those of mere cleanliness. The skin absorbs the water and becomes softer and more perspirable. To wash with soap and soft water is, therefore, desirable from other points of view than that ef cleanliness. XII. CHATTEEING HOPES AND ADVICES. Advising the The sick man to his advisers. ^^^'^^ " My advisers ! Their name is legion. * * * Somehow or other, it seems a provision of the universal destinies, that every man, woman, and child should consider him, her, or it.self privileged especially to advise me. Why ? That is precisely what I want to know." And this is what I have to say to them. I have been advised to go to every place extant in and out of England — to take every kind of exercise by every kind of cart, carriage — yes, and even swing (!) and dumb-bell (!) in existence; to imbibe every different kind of stnnulus that ever has been invented. And this when those best fitted to know, viz , medical men, after long and close attendance, had declared any journey out of the question, had prohibited any kind of motion whatever, had closely laid down the diet and drink. What would my advisers say, were they the medical attendants, and I the patient left their advice, and took the casual adviser's? But the singularity in Legion's mind is this: it never occurs to him that everybody else is doing the same thing, and that I the patient musi. perforce say, in sheer self-defence, like Eosalind, " I could not do with all." Chattering "" Chattering Hopes" may seem an odd heading. But I really hopes the bane Relieve there is scarcely a greater worry which invalids have to endure le SIC '. than the incurable hopes of their friends. There is no one practice against which I can speak more strongly from actual personal expe- rience, wide and long, of its effects during sickness observed both upoa others and upon myself I would appeal most seriously to all friends, visitors, and attendants of the sick to leave off this practice of attempting to " cheer " the sick by making light of their danger and by exaggerating their probabilities of recovery. Ear more now than formerly does the medical attendant tell the truth to the sick who are really desirous to liear it about their owl: state. ClIATTERIXG HOPES A:SD ADTICES. 55 How intense is the folly, then, to say the least of it, of the friend, be he even a medical man, who thinks that his opinion, given after a cursory observation, will weigh with the patient, against the opinion of the medical attendant, given, perhaps, after years of observation, after using every help to diagnosis afforded b)'' the stethoscope, the examination of pulse, tongue, &c. ; and certainly after much more observation than the friend can possibly have had. Supposing the patient to be possessed of common sense, — how can the "favourable" opinion, if it is to be called an opinion at all, of the casual visitor " cheer " him, — when different from that of the experienced attendant ? Unquestionably the latter may, and often does, turn out to be wrong. But which is most likely to be wrong ? The fact is, that the patient* is not "cheered" at all by these patient does well-meaning, most tiresome friends. On the contrary, he is de- not want to pressed and wearied. If, on the one hand, he exerts himself to tell talk of himself, each successive member of this too numerous conspiracy, whose name is legion, why he does not think as they do, — in what respect he is worse, — what symptoms exist that they know nothing of, — he is ftitigued instead of " cheered," and his attention is fixed upon himself. In general, patients who are really ill, do not want to talk about themselves. Hypochondriacs do, but again I say we are not on the subject of hypochondriacs. If, on the otlier hand, and which is much more frequently the case. Absurd conso- the patient says nothing, but the Shakespearian "Oh!" "Ah!" " Go lations put to!" and " In good sooth !" in order to escape from the conversation torth for the about himself the sooner, he is depressed by want of sympathy. He ^.^^^^^ ^^ ^^^^ feels isolated in the midst of friends. He feels what a convenience it would be, if there were any single person to whom he could speak simply and openly, without pulling the string upon himself of this * There are, of course cases, as in first confinements, when an assurance from Absurd statis- tlie doctor or experienced nurse to tlie frightened suffering woman that there is tical compari- nothing unusual in her case, that she has nothing to fear but a few hours' pain, sons made in may cheer her most effectually. This is advice of quite another order. It is the common con- advice of experience to utter inexperience. But the advice we have been refer- versation by . ring to is the advice of inexperience to bitter experience ; and, in general, the most sen- amounts to nothing more than this, that yozi think / shall recover from consump- sible people tion, because somebody knows somebody somewhere who has recovered from for the beneft fever. of the sick. 1 have heard a doctor condemned whose patient did not, alas ! recover, be- cause another doctor's patient of a (liferent sex, of a different age, recovered from a different disease, in a cUfferent place. Yes, this is really true. If people (jrho make these comparisons did but know (only they do not care to know), the care and preciseness with which such comparisons require to be made, (and are made), in order to be of any value whatever, they would spare their tongues. In comparing the deaths of one hospital with those of another, any statistics are justly considered absolutely valuele>s which do not give the ages, the sexes, and the diseases of all the cases. It does not seem necessary to mention this. It does not seem necessary to say that there can be no comparison between old men witli dropsies and young women with consumptions. Yet the cleverest men and the cleverest women are often heard making such comparisons, ignoring entirely sex, age. disease, place — iu fact, all the conditions esscniial to i\\Q question. It is the merest gossip. 56 NOTES ox NUESING. shower-bath of silly hopes and encouragements; to whom he could express his wishes Jind directions without that person persistinrij in saying " I hope that it will please God yet to give you twenty years," or, " Tou have a long life of activity before you." How often we see at the end of biographies or of cases recorded in medical papers, " after a long illness A. died rather suddenly," or, " unex- pectedly both to himself and to others." " Unexpectedly " to others, perhaps, who did not see, because they did not look ; but by no means " unexpectedly to himself," as 1 feel entitled to believe, both from the internal evidence in such stories, and from watching simJl^j cases : there was every reason to expect that A. would die, and he Imew it ; but he found it useless to insist upon his own knowledge to his friends. In these remarks I am alluding neither to acute cases xvhich terminate rapidly nor to "nervous " cases. By the first much interest in their own danger is very rarely felt. In writings of fiction, whether novels or biographies, these death-beds are generally depicted as almost seraphic in lucidity of intelligence. Sadly large has been my experience in death-beds, and I can only say that I have seldom or never seen such. Indifference, excepting with regard to bodily suffering, or to some duty the dying man desires to perform, is the far more usual state. The " nervous case," on the other hand, delights in figuring to himself and others a fictitious danger. But the long chronic case, who knows too well himself, and who has been told by his physician that he will never enter active life again, who feels that every month he has to give up something he could do the month before — oh ! spare such sufferers your chattering hopes. Tou do not know how you worry and wearv them. Such real sufferers cannot bear to talk of themselves, still less to hope for what they cannot at all expect. So also as to all the advice showered so profusely upon such sick, to leave off some occupation, to try some other doctor, some other house, climate, pill, powder, or specific; I say nothing of the incon- sistency— for these advisers are sure to be the same persons who exhorted the sick man not to believe his own doctor's prog- nostics, because " doctors are always mistaken," but to believe some other doctor, because "this doctor is always right." Sure also are these advisers to be the persons to bring the sick man fresh occupa- tion, while exhorting him to leave bis own. WunJerfulpre- Wonderful is the face with which friends, lay and medical, Gumption of will come in and worry the patient with recommendations to do Lhe advisers of something or other, having just as little knowledge as to its being * he sick. feasible, or even safe for him, as if they were to recommend a man to take exercise, not knowing he had broken his leg. What would the friend say, if lie were the medical attendant, and if the patient, because some other friend had come in, because some- body, anybody, nobody, had recommended something, anything, nothing, were to disregard Ids orders, and take that other body's recojumendation ? But people never think of this. CHATTEEING HOPES AND ADVICES. ^7 A celebrated historical personage has related the conimou- Advisers the places which, when on the eve of executing a remarkable reso- same now as lution, were showered in nearly the same words by every one J^^^^^^J^ around successively for a period of six months. To these the personage states that it was found least trouble always to reply the same thing, viz., that it could not be supposed that such a resolution had been taken without sufficient previous consideration. To patients enduring every day for years from every friend or acquaintance, either by letter or viva voce, some torment of this kind, I would suggest the same answer. It would indeed be spared, if such friends and acquaintances would but consider for one moment, that it is probable the patient has heard such advice at least fifty times before, and that, had it been practicable, it would have been practised long ago. But of such consideration there appears to be no chance. Strange, though true, that people should be just the same in these things as they were a few hundred years ago ! To me these commonplaces, leaving their smear upon the cheerful, single-hearted, constant devotion to duty, which is so often seen in the decline of such sufferers, recall the slimy trail left by the snail on the sunny southern garden-wall loaded with fruit.. No mockery in the world is so hollow as the advice showered J^o^^^j^J>'°^ upon the sick. It is of no use for the sick, to say anything, for what . ^^ to sick, the adviser wants is, not to know the truth about the state of the patient, but to turn whatever the sick may say to the support of his own argument, set forth, it must be repeated, without any inquiry whatever into the patient's real condition. " But it would be im- pertinent or indecent in me to make such an inquiry," says the adviser. True ; and how much more impertinent is it to give your advice when you can know nothing about the truth, and admit you could not inquire into it. To nurses I say — these are the visitors who do your patient harm. When you hear him told: — 1. That he has nothing the matter with him, and that he wants cheering. 2.. That he is com- mitting suicide, and that he wants preventing. 3. That he is the tool of somebody who makes use of him for a purpose. 4. That he will listen to nobody, but is obstinately bent upon his own way ; and 5. That he ought to be called to the sense of duty, and is flying in the face of Providence ; — then know that your patient is receiving all the injury that he can receive from a visitor. How little the real sufferings of illness are known or understood. How little does any one in good health fancy him or even Jier&elt into f.he life of a sick person. .Do, you who are about the sick or who visit the sick, try and give Means or them pleasure, remember to tell them what will do so. How often in giving pica- such visits the sick person has to do the whole conversation, exerting ^J^j.^ his own imagination and memory, while you would take the visitor, " absorbed in his own anxieties, making no effort of memory or imagination, for the sick person. " Oli !' my dear, I have so much to think of, I really quite forgot to tell him that ;. besides, I thought he 58 NOTES OK NUESIXG. would know it," says the visitor to another friend. How could " he know it "? Depend upon it, the people who say this are really those who have little " to think of." There are many burthened witli business who alwavs manage to keep a pigeon-hole in their minds, full of things to tell the " invalid." I do not say, don't tell him your anxieties — T believe it is good for him and good for you too ; but if you tell him what is anxious, surely you can remember to tell him what is pleasant too. A sick person does so enjoy hearing good news : — for instance, of a love and courtship, while in progress to a good ending. If you tell him only when the marriage takes place, he loses half the pleasure, which God knows he has little enough of; and ten to one but you have told him of some love-making with a bad ending. A sick person also intensely enjoys hearing of any material good, any positive or practical success of the right. He has so much of books and fiction, of principles, and precepts, and theories ; do, in- stead of advising him with advice he has heard at least fifty times before, tell him of one benevolent act which has really succeeded practically, — it is like a day's health to him.* You have no idea what the craving of sick with undiminished power of thinking, but little power of doing, is to hear of good practical action, when they can no longer partake in it. Do observe these things with the sick. Do remember how their life is to them disappointed and incomplete. You see them lying there with miserable disappointments, from which they can have no escape but death, and you can't remember to tell them of what would give them so much pleasure, or at least an hour's variety. They don't want you to be lachrymose and whining with them, they like you to be fresh and active and interested, but they cannot bear absence of mind, and they are so tired of the advice and preach- ing they receive from every body, no matter whom it is, they see. There is no better society than babies and sick people for one another. Of course you must manage this so that neither shall 6ufi[^ eo «o •uotsiAKi inu •S3nnno3 S o ujainjovj ^ -* •U0!siAi([ nioT ^ -o •9JII(S>(.10X. i^ Cl •UOJSIAItl HJ6 -^ -" •sgniinoQ 1 a.i3»s3 vv ^ m.wsi ^. •iiotsiAin 1(58 •S9nnno3 1 - P"«lPiI« s M+ro.vi i_^ •uoisiAid i[;r, •S3nano3 .- CO P'X'IP'W Cl l^JAV ^ Cl •noisiAiQ 1H9 •S3nnuo3 US U.OlS3.V\. Sj T[ino^^ CO ^ •uotsiAia 11^5 ■i^auunnj 2S o IU3\SK[1 55 •UOlSlAId {{%f ■P"«IP!K o Cl VUlOv,^ TlOlSlAl;! pjg •UJOISRSI ^ T? 'linos cT •HOtSlAl(J^ p«5 MiopuoT o •noisiAid ;st: •SB3S qsijije: Cl o 911J at SpilK[SI ^^ Cl •pnenoas lO '" '"' •S01R_^ rH 12 pUB c-x puHiru^; Cl •SK3VJ HSUMa t- ai|\ uc 3 spui^isi p.r^ .•^ Cl" IIIHIUH 11^3-'0 G ti s s ■^ CO o = J; O ^ s 3 ^ y; KOTE. 79 Note as to the Numbee of Wome?^ employed as NUIISES IN GrEEAT BeITAIN. 25,466 were returned, at the census of 1S51, as nurses by pro- fession, 39,139 nurses in domestic service,* and 2,822 midwives. The numbers of different ages are shown in table A, and in table B their distribution over Grreat Britain. To increase the efficiency of this class, and to make as many of them as possible the disciples of the true doctrines of health, would be a great national work. For there the material exists, and will be used for nursing, whether the real " conclusion of the matter" be to nurse or to poison the sick. A man, who stands perhaps at the head of our medical profession, once said to me, I send a nurse into a private family to nurse the sick, but I know that it is only to do them harm. Now a nurse means any person in charge of the personal health of another. And, in the preceding notes, the term muse is used indiscriminately for amateur and professional nurses. For, besides nurses of the sick and nurses of children, the numbers of whom are here given, there are friends or relations who take temporary charge of a sick person, there are mothers of families. It appears as if these unprofessional nurses were just as miicii ii\ want of knowledge of the laws of health as professional onea. Then there are the school-mistresses of all national and other schools throughout the kingdom. How many of children's epidemics originate in these ! Then the proportion of girls in these schools, who become mothers or members among the 64,600 nurses recorded above, or schoolmistresses in their turn. If the laws of health, as far as regards fresh air, cleanliness, light, &c., were taught to these, would this not prevent some children being killed, some evil being perpetuated ? On women we must depend, first and last, for personal and household hygiene — for preventing the race from degenerating in as far as these things are concerned. Would not the true way of infusing the art of preserving its own health into the human race be to teach the female part of it in schools and hospitals, both by practical teaching and by simple experiments, in as iar as these illus- trate what may be called the theory of it ? * A curious fact will be shown by Table A, viz., that 18,122 out of 39,139, or nearly one-half oi all the nurses, in domestic service, are between 5 and 20 ye^s of age. HARRISON AND SONS, PBIKlE&S Hi OfiDINABI TO HEB SIAJISTT, SI. IIAETIN'S LAKE. NEW BOOKS AND NEW EDITIO'NS-contmued. Army Hospital Corps. 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